


A Manhattan Mystery

by RainKiss



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Tokyo Ghoul, tokyo ghoul re:
Genre: (and Immigrants), Gen, Ghouls and Avengers, Ghouls compared to Mutants, Ghouls from the Tokyo Ghoul manga live in the MCU, Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls, Mystery, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), There are no underage relationships in this fic, crushes on older people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-05-19 13:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19358203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainKiss/pseuds/RainKiss
Summary: Certain odd occurrences have turned up in North America. Is this the work of a serial killer? Or a rabid mutant? The Avengers might still be split up, so how might they work this one out?By the way, Peter makes friends with a ghoul. All in a day's work, really. Touka adores him and let's him take cake samples home all the time.Everyone has secrets.





	1. Ghosted

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I have a WIP. I'm working to finish my fic 'Winners'. In the mean time, I'm planning an MCU fic (other than this one). Let's see how it goes.  
> This story may be just a couple of chapters long, may be three.

It’s not that Natasha didn’t want to go home. She knew how complicated everything was. The Accords had been tainted by agenda (Steve’s most hated word), and the resulting chaos had been explosive and disastrous; a consequence of lack of communication.

But, Nat knew that willing everything to magically turn over and make a path for them back to the States, back to the Compound, was wishful and ridiculously optimistic.

Nat was a realist. She relied on the cold, hard truth of life, of human mentality. She excelled at reading the terrain even when the terrain exhibited nothing but bad news. But sometimes, bad news for others could be hopeful for her. It wasn’t a fair thought process.

So when the Rogue Avengers started receiving cryptic messages from Nick Fury, about disturbances from the States, Nat was hatefully hopeful.

A common enemy to unite them once more.

“Signs of a level 2 threat,” Sam murmured, reading the numbers on his hologram.

The shack-like house by the coast of Alexandria, doubled as an outpost for the small group. Nat had been keeping vigilant as a look out up in the small tower of the building. Her little crow’s nest smelled of gun powder, even though none of them had fired a weapon in the place. She leaned back, keeping her eyes on the horizon of the waters, keeping her ears peeled for the conversation that began below.

“And we’re sure this is Fury?” Steve asked, his soft footsteps trailing across the floor. “How did the code check out?”

“Double encrypted with a dash of Morse. It’s him. Unless, he’s decided to change it without telling anyone.”

“He would,” Steve said.

Fury certainly would, Natasha thought. If there was a hint that the message could be intercepted, Fury would make sure to establish any security he could.

But in case of an emergency…

“No bodies.” Steve sounded weary. “No deaths.”

“Someone’s been stealing dead bodies,” Sam pointed out. “The only clue we have is the decapitated corpse in Long Island. Not much video surveillance. Could be a serial killer. Could be a mutant.”

“That sounds like the start of a thriller,” Wanda intoned. Nat could hear the sleep in her voice. She was glad. Wanda only recently had been sleeping through the night.

Of course, it was thanks to the constant communication with Vision, back in the Compound… but whatever helps.

“Why would Fury need us on this?” Steve asked the obvious, since there was no answer to it yet. “Unless there’s a clear enhanced threat…”

“May be he misses us.”

“Is this an excuse?” Wanda sounded hopeful. It was one of the thousand reasons Nat liked Wanda. The young Avenger always spoke out loud the private concerns Nat had in her heart.

“An excuse to go back home,” Sam said. His hope was contained within his strong hold.

Months on the run had begun to wear them out. It was only a matter of time when Steve and Nat would also be vocal about their homesickness.

“Fury would have found a stronger reason than missing bodies,” Steve argued. “If he hasn’t given any more beyond this missive… he can’t expect us to sneak back into the country to start an investigation.”

Steve’s frustration was showing. May be that was his manifestation of being homesick. Maybe he was just annoyed at the number of times Fury had ghosted them.

“What if he can’t reach any more beyond us?” Nat called from the crow’s nest.

Three pairs of footsteps stopped below her. She didn’t look away from her designation, but was part of the conversation anyway.

“Last we heard, he was in Greece,” Sam reminded her. “He can reach Stark anywhere from Earth –”

“Fury only uses Morse when he’s pressed for time,” Nat said. “And he’s pressed for time when he’s on the lam.”

Wanda seemed to swallow. “On the run? Do you think he’s being chased? Then why would he send data about bodies?”

“I have two guesses.” Nat adjusted her seat. “Either these messages contain deep end hidden codes about a critical problem, or that he simply can’t reach Tony and needs us to pass the info to him.”

“Fury could have accessed Vision.” Steve hummed. “He chose to send it through us.”

Sam’s footsteps nudged at the floorboards. “So, we send these letters to Stark, and do a remote follow up on our end.”

Wanda’s sorrowful aura touched Nat.

Nat was hopeful, but not unrealistic. They couldn’t go back yet.

~~~~~

Tony woke up to the smell of waffles.

That was such a strange sentence. He woke up… to a delicious smell…

When had he slept?

The bed was a firm mattress, designed for the back. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, his spine appreciating the proper support.

Waffles. Such a beautiful word.

“FRIDAY,” Tony’s pandiculation interrupted himself. “Status.”

“Good morning, boss.” The A.I’s voice sounded unusually perky. “You’ve just woken up after a five hour sleep. Ms. Potts’ suggestion of decaf through the week has helped you achieve a full R.E.M cycle. Congratulations.”

Tony blinked. That’s it? Decaf helps with sleep. That couldn’t be true.

“Are you sure, FRI? I wouldn’t put it past her to cast a sleeping spell on me. Check my assets, did Pep steal a few billions while I was snoring?”

“A full evaluation of your stocks and assets would take a few minutes, boss. If you would go back to sleep, I’m sure the easy answer would become zero.”

Vision was clearly giving FRIDAY a lesson in sarcasm. Tony was adamant he hadn’t actually put that much thought into her coding as he’d done for JARVIS.

“Sure, laugh at your creator. I’m going down to get a nice cup of –

“Ms. Potts recommendation of no caffeine –”

“I know! I was about to say a cup of waffles, as any sane man who loves his fiancée and respects her suggestions to help his health, would say!”

It took Tony a grand total of twenty minutes of shuffling his feet down to the elevator to reach the kitchen. A personal record. Tony Stark without coffee used to be a useless body.

Pepper was seated at the table, twirling her fork into the last few pieces of her waffle. She had her tablet open beside the plate, scrolling down various posts on Twitter. It was a surprise to see her not working. As far as Tony knew, Pepper liked to clear her notifications on her mails as she ate. Not strictly work, just keeping up to date with everything that happened while she slept.

See, Rhodey? Tony wasn’t the only workaholic in this relationship.

“Good morning,” he called out to Pepper, enjoying the startled look she gave him.

“It’s nine O’clock,” Pepper said, still surprised at the sight of him.

“Oh,” Tony looked out the floor to ceiling glass windows at the lively city below him. The skies were blue with grey clouds dotting the scene. “Is this what nine in the morning looks like? Exotic!”

Pepper smiled. Not just at the quip, but out of happiness and hope. Tony really was trying to be better.

“It is a good morning,” she replied.

Tony grabbed a plate for himself and sat beside her. She put away the tab and they shared a kiss.

“What plans for the day?” Pepper hummed, smiling with her eyes closed. Tony leaned forwards and pecked her lips again.

“Well, Rhodey’s been holding the fort down at the Compound. I’ll be sending him the new Quinjet details for AI integration…”

Tony knew she didn’t want him holed up in his lab all day. That was one of the rules to keeping the engagement. Try to be better. Try to be healthier.

Tony was trying. It’s been a good week so far. With the cut down on caffeine, his skin itched and his eyes were droopy, but nothing too bad. He spent less time in the lab and more time reviewing the numbers in the market.

And he’d even attended a meeting with the Board without too much reprimanding from Pepper. That had been the highlight, honestly.

(He might not have enjoyed the meeting, but it did get a lot of work down, which meant it freed Pepper’s time. Tony had never seen her so relaxed on Mondays after Board meetings. He needed to attend more briefings if she got to extend her down time.)

“I’ll be checking up with Happy on the SI managerial assets,” Tony told her. “May be, drive out to his house. He’s been thinking of getting an indoor plant.”

Pepper looked incredibly relieved. “That sounds good. That… I’m really proud of you Tony.”

Her boost of morale made something in his chest expand. Like his lungs had finally found a painless way of drawing in enough air without exacerbating his chest scars.

_I’d do anything for you. I love you, Pep._

“Thanks,” Tony dug into his breakfast, feeling hungrier than usual.

Within an hour, Pepper went over to SI and Tony just finished sending everything he needed for Rhodey’s debriefing.

Easy day.

And then FRIDAY sent him an alert.

“Boss, you have a missed call.”

“Is it Pep?”

“No.”

“If it’s not Happy or Rhodey –“

“It’s from Wanda’s number.”

Tony nearly froze in the act of standing up from the couch. “I – track her cell.”

“Her phone’s at the Compound,” FRIDAY responded without a drop of humor. “Vision is tracing the parameters. He suspects there to be trouble.”

Tony scratched at his wrist, mind whirling with a hundred dreadful scenarios. He’d asked Vision to keep up all notice concerning the Rogue Avengers. It was easier for him and Rhodey to lie to Secretary Ross if they had no clue about the runaways’ whereabouts. He knew that Vision and Wanda were in touch, however merciful the connection was.

But why would Wanda try to call Tony?

Unless, they really were in trouble.

A projection switched on in front of him. Tony blinked and watched the screen light up with Vision’s name.

“Open it,” he mumbled.

FRIDAY opened the message and Vision’s profile appeared in front of him, with a short explanation of his role.

**I’ve run different filters of decryption. There are a few layers of sentences that she has sent over. The first one states that this is all the communication they’ve received from Nick Fury.**

What’s Fury got into now?

Tony watched as Vision uploaded the different prints side by side.  
1\. Jun 25, Santa Monica Pier (text)  
2\. Sept 7, Long Island (pics)  
3\. Sept 30, Malibu (text)  
4\. Oct 19, Manhattan (text)

The four dates were listed as headers. Below them came the information. Tony’s eyes were immediately caught over the images that came online under the name ‘Long Island.’

It looked like a crime scene. Behind the bright holiday homes of rich socialites, the streets were deserted. The first image showed a nook between two houses, cloistered enough to be out of the way. There were blood splatters over the ground and on the wall. It looked like a violent fight.

The second and third images showed different angles of the scene. Tony swallowed once, nearly able to smell the blood. There were pieces of wall debris littering the ground. Something strong had hit the wall and taken out a chunk of it. 

He looked away and focused on the sentences that filled the space below the other three dates.

_‘Santa Monica Pier closed due to abundance of plastic nets washing up the shore.’_  
‘Malibu cemetery shut down pending investigation of broken headstones.’  
‘Manhattan dog-park closed for clean-up over the weekend.’ 

The seemingly random headlines threw up red flags for him.

“FRIDAY, bring up police reports for the dates and places,” Tony murmured, folding his hands and clenching his fists.

“Already did,” her response wasn’t optimal. “Only initial statements have been logged. No public records. These are newspaper headlines that were retracted within days of posting.”

Well, wasn’t that curious?

“Yes, I can see how a closed dog-park can be controversial,” he inhaled. “Send the asset files to Happy, pronto. And since I’m free for the rest of the day, let’s go surfing. Turn on the lab and get me into the relevant precincts.”

It took him half an hour to order a pizza, walk down to his private lab and source all the information there was. That was a worryingly long time. Someone had really wanted all this to be buried.

Tony scanned through the now available crime scene photos from all four locations. Regarding all the messily cleaned up blood, the fight marks around the scene…  
And the one half-eaten body, without a head or leg…

“What d’you think, FRI?” He asked, chewing fast on the salami slices. The swivel chair turned and turned till all the images surrounded him in a sphere.

“I would rule out human trafficking,” she said, her voice solemn in the quiet lab. “The murderer would need to have employed immense physical strength to tear out a limb.”

“And head.”

The body was gruesome. Tony couldn’t find any distinguishing features. The current police department had bagged the body as a John Doe, still in the process of identifying the victim. Initial reports stated enhanced persons as potential culprits.

Tony though over the dates, looking through the locations. Other than the body in Long Island (Time of Death: 4 in the morning), the other three locations had no corpse. 

This was especially distressing concerning the cemetery in Malibu. Tony looked over the various photos of the two graves, dug up, coffins empty. Somebody had taken the freshly buried bodies out of the graves and had done a poor job of covering it back up. The keeper had found the mounds of upturned earth and checked it out before calling the cops.

It was the blood and debris that had singled out the other two sites. Which means these four instances were caught only because of the sloppy nature of the crimes.

Statistically, there would be more instances by the same culprit, except, they might have cleanly gotten away with it.

“FRIDAY, tell Vision to start a trace on Fury. He was in Thessaloniki, last I heard. See if anything matches to his situation. And I need you to look up on missing persons around these four spots. What would one do with bodies? Where would they dispose dead bodies or dismembered pieces?”

“There has been no motive established. The investigation has been ongoing since early June. Odds of finding recorded data are low,” FRIDAY stated, adding more images from the police reports that officially did not exist.

“I know what the odds are, just keep a track of it! If anything changes, I need to know,” Tony growled, glaring at the fourth crime scene. It was in a nook under the trees. This part of the dog-park was messy with grass and mud turned over like there had been a short and brutal struggle. Tony could see the blood seeped into the overturned earth.

“Priority Manhattan, FRIDAY.”

~~~~~

MJ was leading Midtown’s Academic Decathlon team through the busy roads of Manhattan. If you asked Peter, he would say that she was unusually aloof. This was, of course, different from her regular aloofness.

“The airport,” Abraham suggested.

“Nope,” MJ sounded like she was in a good mood. Wherever she was taking them must be seriously incredible. There was no way she’d let them skip a session of AcaDec practice to simply wander around the borough.

“The public pool,” Cindy piped up, determined to guess right. She had her game face on, as though this was another quiz they were competing in.

“No.”

“Why would we go to a public pool?” Flash snorted.

“At least my suggestion sounds better than yours, Mr. Bouncy Pit!”

“Are you leading us to our deaths?” Charles asked, dragging his feet. Ned and Peter snickered.

MJ gave a long suffering sigh. “No.”

“Where are we going?!”

“We’re almost there.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Public library!” Ned yelled, startling a few pedestrians.

“Close, but no.”

“Obviously, it’s got something to do with books,” Peter surmised, hiking up the straps of his backpack. “Are we going to a bookstore?”

MJ opened her mouth and then shut it, pressing her lips together. Abe hooted and Cindy laughed at Flash’s grumbling.

“I’m right?!” Peter smiled so wide that MJ gave him a dirty look.

“Half right, loser.”

“Okay, half a bookstore and what?”

“Guess.” MJ’s last word had everyone groaning again. “Alright, alright!” She said, placating them. 

MJ stopped in her tracks, spun around and threw one hand up to gesture at the closest store on their right. “We’re here!”

Peter looked up at the sign which read _‘Antique Essence.’_ The letters were in an elegant cursive hand, with pretty pink flowers carved into the wooden board. It was a two storey building with a balcony on the right. It looked like a garden terrace with a beautiful array of climbers, creepers, and flowers growing from several pots arranged in a line by the railing.

The ground floor definitely resembled a bookstore. The concrete wall surrounding the door was painted in blue pastel but it extended into a glass wall, right below the balcony. Peter spotted rows of books arranged meticulously with space for chairs and tables inside.

MJ placed her hand on the door handle and began in a soft voice, “Relativity is everything. I want you all to take in a deep breath. Feel the carbon emissions in the air. Listen to the screech of the tires and noise of people yelling, cars honking –”

“You really are trying to kill us,” Charles interrupted.

“Just do it!” MJ insisted. Peter had no desire to extend his senses to gather all the input the world had to offer. He liked his sanity, thank you.

Her eyes flew to meet his and he pretended to take deep breath. He’d never known MJ to be excited about anything.

“And now,” MJ said, eyes gleaming. It was nice to see her happy. “You have to inhale when I open the door.”

Ned and Abe gave emphatic nods. Cindy sighed, “Get on with it!”

MJ braced her arm and pushed open the door to the store. Peter took in a small breath, not really on edge, but careful all the same.

He smelt heaven.

The soft and cool breeze that wafted through the door was scented with chocolate and coffee with a hint of jasmine. Under the essence was the softer smell of books, old and new.

It was excellent. Peter felt his jaw drop as they stepped into the store. 

Right beside the long rows of books was a counter selling pastries and coffee.

“It’s a bakery and a bookstore,” Ned whispered as though they were on hallowed grounds, “… rolled into one!”

MJ smirked, “You guys have been practicing hard. I thought you could chill here today.”

Translation: All of you have been working your asses off for the past two months. I appreciate your dedication. It makes me proud to be team leader. (And Peter hasn’t missed a practice session, as of late.)

The team wandered in, gawking all over the place. There were a few people moving about the shelves. Some were seated at the tables with mugs of hot chocolate and a book. It was a wholesome feeling.

“Okay, so the owners are sort of new,” MJ explained. “This isn’t a place for group activities, so we can just go about on our own. Don’t make me regret bringing you guys here.”

Flash threw up a peace sign and headed right into the Manga section. Cindy hopped over to the pastry counter and Peter followed Ned over to the sci-fi fiction section.

“This place is awesome!” Ned whispered, excited. “The vibe is so amazing.”

“It is.” Peter wondered if the glass and walls were partially soundproof, because he could barely hear the sounds of the outside world. The air conditioning was just right to keep the place cool. The delicious smells from the bakery were exquisite. Peter could stay here for days.

Ned picked up a book called _Destiny Has Arrived_ , as Peter spun around and saw a woman walking through the store. 

She stole Peter’s breath away.

The woman wore an apron over a white and blue uniform. It looked like she worked over at the bakery. Her fringe of her hair covered part of her mesmerizing face. She had a pale color, with a soft blush, glossy lips and purple-blue eyes. Just a couple of inches shorter than him, she went to stand behind the counter and started to talk to Cindy.

Peter’s feet took him towards them.

“Is this Blueberry Cheese?” Cindy asked, pointing at one of the cake slices.

“Yes,” the woman replied, a gentle smile gracing her face. “Would you like a sample?”

“Yes, please!”

The woman’s accent was heavy. She spoke English articulately and it wasn’t all that hard to misinterpret her. Peter couldn’t look away. Everything she did seemed perfect.

The woman placed a small cut of the cake for Cindy to taste and then turned towards Peter.

“Would you like to try a slice too?”

“Uh,” Peter muttered. “Um… yeah! The… blue…”

He couldn’t stop staring at her eyes.

“Blueberry?” She asked. Her smile turned into a smirk. She seemed to know why he was so flustered.

“Yes! That!” Peter’s face was hot. 

Cindy narrowed her eyes as she bit into her sample. “Subtle much, Parker?”

Peter ducked his head and accepted the plate of cake. His response was a meek, “Thank you.”

He ended up buying two pieces of cake from the store. That was all the money he had for the week. He was lucky his subway pass still held, or he’d be walking everywhere.

That evening, when Peter went on his patrol, he made sure to swing by the store.

The _Antique Essence_ was a new place. Not many had discovered it yet, and Peter was glad MJ had brought him here. It honestly had a wonderful ambience. And if he could talk to the owner once in a while, that might not hurt either.

Was he being a creep? Oh man.

“You seem a little distracted, Peter,” Karen informed him. His A.I. had called him out on it twice before.

“Sorry, sorry… just thinking.”

“Is there something wrong?”

Peter launched a web towards the nearest skyscraper and swung across two parallel streets, directly crossing _Antique Essence_ below him. The wind rushed over his suit and the taut pull of the web supplied him enough potential energy to do a loop-de-loop in the air before landing on a crouch on the tall pole of the building. 

The adrenaline was incredible. An unforgettable and non-regrettable experience.

“There’s this woman in the bakery over there,” Peter said with a longing sigh. “She’s the prettiest person I’ve ever seen, Karen.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Do you like her?” Karen asked, in an easy-going tone.

“I guess so. I mean, she’s probably ten years older than me. It’s just a crush. But she’s super pretty. That’s all.”

The wind whistled as Karen asked, “Are you hoping to look at her now?”

“No! No, that would be creepy…” Peter mumbled looking down a hundred feet to the entrance of the store.

His spidey sense was quiet, and Peter was relaxed enough to simply sit there, enjoying the view of the city.

“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” Karen suddenly said. Peter held onto the pole as his display screen lit up with Tony’s face.

“Hey, Mr. Stark!”

“Hey, kid. Quick question, nothing too odd or urgent, but why are you away from Queens?”

Peter’s shoulders slumped. Honestly, would the man never rest about Peter’s perimeters?

“I take different routes around the city, Mr. Stark. This isn’t the first time I’m outside Queens.”

Tony had his glasses on, but the lenses were clear. His forehead was wrinkled like he just couldn’t stop frowning. Was something worrying him?

“I know that. But we all know what happens when you wander out too far away.”

“But, Mr. Sta –”

“You fight the fight, you stop the crime, you always come home late, and we both get lashings from Auntie May. Sound familiar?”

“That happened only twice!”

“Twice too many, kid. In my book, a successful day is when I don’t get angry calls from the Spider-Aunt. I long for such moments, Pete. The sense of satisfaction I receive when I can get through the day without having an aneurysm from your antics and the resulting howler calls from May, is incomparable.”

Peter groaned. Trust Tony to lay it on thick. “I’ll keep an eye on the time, I promise – ”

“I’ll believe it when I see it happen. But for now, go back to Queens.”

“I stayed in Queens for an hour! Apparently, there was no crime!”

“Then you’ve achieved the highest of honors, kid! Your reputation preceeds you. No one would dare commit a felony when Underoos is on the job!”

“Mr. Stark, are you okay?”

Tony’s face froze for a moment. Peter had recognized a climb in the octave as he rambled on.

“Just…” Tony hesitated for a moment, “Stay out of Manhattan for a bit.”

“Why?” Peter sat up, spine rigid. “What’s wrong here? Is something happening? Is it an Avenger mission? Are you in Manhattan? Are you undercover? Oh my god –”

“What, no! No, just go back. Trust me on this, it’s way above your pay grade.”

“What’s happening in Manhattan?! Is it a secret mission?”

“Kid!” Tony yelled, “Listen to me for once! Go back to Queens, now!”

Peter tried not to glare. The overwhelming emotion of disappointment filled his chest. Tony hadn’t outright shouted, but the frustration in his words had been clear.

“Trust me on this, Peter,” Tony continued, deadly serious now. “Go home.”

“If you could tell me what’s going on, I can help – ”

“Mr. Stark has ended the call,” KAREN said, midway through Peter’s defense. He threw his hands up.

After everything, even after offering Peter an actual position in the Avengers Initiative, Tony still benches him. Something was happening in Manhattan and Peter was going to get to the bottom of it.


	2. Home

Touka was closing up. The last customer of the day had rushed in, ordered the remaining bagels left in the showcase, and had run out again, leaving her free to lock up and remove her apron. 

The act of removing the apron was therapeutic. Sure, she loved her new job. _Antique Essence_ was god sent for her little family to settle down, out of sight, in a new place. When she and Kaneki had made plans to leave Japan altogether and not just hide away in one of the many wards, they’d been overwhelmed by the immense number of choices they had.

The world was larger than one thought. No matter how much technology could bring remote places to visibility, there was something in the actual journey and retrospection of unseen and untraveled routes. Most of the world feels familiar in that it had people (humans) and culture (laws). 

The main thing to remember that no matter where they went, there would be danger close at hand. Ghouls. They were ghouls. Japan was the country with the highest ghoul population. Humans were aware of ghouls, not as myths, but very real life threats. 

But there were countries who were as yet unaware of the existence of ghouls. It had seemed so surreal to Touka. She was born a ghoul, has lived her life being one. She is privy to the experience of humans, but can never imbibe it. Blending in was second nature, but that was the extent of it. 

But if this was the best case scenario (that if they didn’t know about her, she could live undisturbed), then she would take it without complaint. 

If this could allow Ichika to grow up without personal experience of the horrors of hatred from humans, she’d dive into this unaware world without hesitation. 

Touka held her apron, feeling her mind fall into a degree of ease. The sounds of New York city never stopped, but that was okay. Silence was an indicator of incoming trouble. Her brain was starting to file these noises into background scores, forever there and constant. 

She thought of the sweet encounters of the day, as she made her way into the back room where the staircase began. She lived above the shop. 

Ichika was sound asleep. Touka could hear her slow breathing all the way from the shop, but as she stood by the door of her small house, wrestling with her key to unlock it, she smiled. A genuine one, not the customer smile. 

The house contained three rooms. A bedroom for her, Kaneki, and their daughter, a kitchen that doubled as the main hall where the door opened into, and a bathroom. The cramped space was sometimes stifling, but she was glad for its close quarters. 

Her brother was sitting on the kitchen floor, slumped against the wall and glaring balefully at his laptop. Ayato didn’t even look up as she closed the door. Touka tossed the keys at his head. 

“Ai!” He muttered, annoyed, swiping the keys before they would hit him. 

“Were you sitting there the whole day?” Touka asked, quickly peeking into the bedroom to make sure the child weren’t disturbed by her entrance. 

Ayato scowled at her. Touka sighed, trying to reign it in. Ayato had been of a lot of help in relocating them. He was the one who’d managed to convince the previous owner (without drastic threats) to rent the house to her. He’d found a small school to enroll Ichika in, and also babysat her in the evenings. 

“Old man says Mutsuki’s helping with the clean-up,” Ayato explained. Touka sat beside him, crossing her legs and peering at the email Yomo had sent. 

“Yomo’s hopeful,” Touka whispered. It was often difficult to pinpoint a specific emotion in their uncle, even after having known him for years. But the email he sent was short, full of information, but subjective in its optimism. 

“He said there’s an ally helping them keep everything under the wraps,” Ayato sighed. 

“Under the wraps? Everything in public records in Japan,” Touka blurted, snatching the laptop from him to read the email again in disbelief. 

**Ayato, ******

**Riots have stopped. Staggered information dispersal is taking effect. CCG is under plans of being dissolved for a new group to be formed. Furuta’s files have been found. Mutsuki is part of our clean-up group, both for the city and the CCG database. New ally supplied info from outside Japan. Might come home in a year.**

**YR**

A year. 

They would be able to come back in a year’s time. 

A year away from home, away from the wards…

A year in America. 

Touka glared at the screen, at the words that had Yomo’s hope, but her sorrow. The original plan had been to leave Tokyo for at most three months. 

She had no interest in establishing herself as a New York Ghoul. 

From the streets, Kaneki’s heartbeat appeared as he presumably rounded a corner, a block away. Touka leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes, sniffing at the soft exhales of Ichika in the next room, or Ayato’s grudging comfort as he took the laptop from her, and of Kaneki’s pulse. Her home was a world away, an ocean away. In the vast continent, only three souls were dear to her. 

Kaneki walked into the store, locked it and made his way up to the house. 

This small house would be home for the year. 

The dirt yellow pastel walls, the constant dampness in the bathroom, the tiny lizards hiding behind the kitchen cabinets…

Kaneki walked in. Touka looked up at him, weary and distressed. 

He froze at the doorway, staring back. 

This place would be home. 

The crayon drawings over the lower part of the walls all over the house, the height markings at the bedroom door frame, the small shoe rack beside the main door with all their outside footwear, the lumpy second hand cushions that smelled like Kaneki and Ichika around the tiny table in the kitchen, this laptop that she and Kaneki would use to watch late night shows to improve their English and understand American colloquialism and humor…

They were making it work. 

She wasn’t alone. 

“That’s my cue to get out,” Ayato said, standing up with a grunt. “You’re giving each other the bedroom eyes again.” 

“Ayato kun!” Kaneki protested, flushing bright red. Touka unwittingly smiled. Some things would never change. 

Ayato snatched one of the bags Kaneki held and bid them goodbye. He left, rolling his eyes at Touka. 

Kaneki coughed, trying to hide his blush as he crossed the room to open the fridge and place the rest of the bags in them. Touka could smell the cut meat even as the door closed. 

“Any trouble?” she asked as he sat down beside her. 

“Not today. Sorry, I tried to make it before you closed –”

“It’s okay. How was the hunt?” 

Kaneki winced. He didn’t like calling it that. The meat was from a poorly regulated hospital that oversaw a majority of suicide cases. He didn’t like doing the job, but today had been his turn. He never complained about their situation, instead worked to make things better for them. 

“How’s Ayato with the rent at his place?” Kaneki asked, picking up the laptop to read Yomo’s mail. 

“He’s staying two blocks over at the Garibaldi,” Touka said, sitting up and placing her chin over his shoulder. “That place is an awful dump. But since he’s working at the hotel, he has a good discount.” 

Kaneki stayed quiet as he read the mail. Touka slipped her hand into his, squeezing his fingers for support. 

“If the CCG files check out, he might go back sooner than us. He misses Hinami.” 

Kaneki didn’t reply. Touka kissed his cheek as he sniffed. 

“I feel like this is my fault,” he whispered. 

Touka hugged him. Years ago, he wouldn’t even admit that. Kaneki’s self-destructive tendencies were silent and ongoing. 

Ichika helped. Touka liked to think that the little girl helped Kaneki work at himself to be better, to try at least. 

“It was sudden. You couldn’t have helped it. It had been years since Furuta but with the new files, the humans were bound to react… Yomo is working on finding the culprits.” 

“I know. This is just a precaution, but I wished it wasn’t that bad.” Kaneki leaned back, bringing an arm around Touka. “But… that’s not all.” 

She tilted her head to survey the odd expression on his face. 

“I… today, I keep… (sigh) I heard something at the hospital.” 

Touka frowned. She could smell the hesitance, doubt, and fear emanating from his words alone. 

“What’s wrong at the hospital?” 

“Not there… the police found a body. Human, I think. At the dog park.” 

The dog park? Touka knew only of one dog park. Once a week, she, Kaneki, and Ichika would take a walk around the city to acclimate themselves with the surroundings. It was important to keep in mind the exact routes, possible hiding spots in the neighborhood. They preferred to stick to Manhattan, but would occasionally walk to another borough. The exercise and outside air helped Ichika get a lot of pent up energy out of her system. 

Usually, on the way back, they would always cross a dog park, a few blocks from their house. Ichika loved looking at the dogs even though the smart canines tended to avoid the little family. 

“They found a signs of struggle in the park,” Kaneki’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Blood and torn grass, mud thrown around. They’re searching for the body… something about it made me feel like…”

He pressed his lips together, forehead wrinkling in worry. Touka inhaled, trying to settle her own thrumming heart. 

It sounded like a young ghoul, barely have learned how to use their kagune to catch their prey. 

“There could be ghouls in America,” Touka suggested. “It’s a possibility we had discussed.” 

“I know. But we haven’t smelled anyone around Manhattan. We need to keep an eye out for the news. May be Ayato find out about it.” 

“We should go there and check the scent. If it was recent, we’ll know more.” 

Kaneki nodded tightly. “I thought about that. The park is closed now. We’ll have to sneak in. But, Ichika -”

“You stay with Ichika tomorrow night. Ayato and I can check it out after the shops around the park are closed.” 

Kaneki stared. “What? No –”

“Don’t start with that – ” 

“It’s not, no I just think –”

“Hinami isn’t here!” Touka hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. Kaneki sometimes got too overprotective. He needed a smack to remember that his wife could take care of herself and get things done just as effectively as him. 

Touka wouldn’t smack him though. Not even for fun. Ichika was starting to pick it up and had almost made a boy in her class howl when she hit him for getting the alphabet wrong. 

“Hinami would’ve been my first choice to go check the scene, but since she isn’t here, I’m going. And I’m not going alone, Ayato will be there. Ichika will be with you.” 

“Or Ayato can stay and the both of us can go!” 

“I’d like to see you convince Ayato to stay behind while we go out to investigate,” Touka huffed. “If anything, he’ll ditch us and run to check the park on his own. I’m not risking that. Two needs to go. It will be Ayato and me.” 

Kaneki’s face turned red, not with embarrassment but in irritation. But he closed his eyes and pressed a hand over his forehead to calm down. 

“You make logical points now. Where’s the old Touka and her brash ‘hit now, ask questions never’ stance?” 

Touka smirked, “She’s sleeping. But the new Touka is cooler and more collected.” 

“Cooler?” 

“You better not – ” 

“You can’t be cooler if you’ve never been cool!” 

Touka groaned as Kaneki laughed, dipping down to kiss her sweetly. She tried to shush him. If Ichika woke up now, there would be hell to pay. 

“Quiet, Bakaneki!” 

Kaneki grinned at her, pulling back. His face was illuminated not only from the laptop’s glow, but also with his smile. His eyes were large and shiny, like he was at the edge of a sob, just from the look of her. 

“You’ll be careful,” he whispered. “I know. I love you.” 

“Love you too. You need sleep, it’s an early start tomorrow. Ichika’s staying home.” 

Kaneki blinked. Then he groaned. “Saturday!” 

~~~~~

Peter woke up at six. 

On a Saturday. 

He’d call Ned the day before to explain about the strange situation. The boys had decided to track all odd occurrences in and around Manhattan in the past few days. 

“Hey May!” Peter exclaimed, bouncing into the kitchen and grabbing toast from her plate. 

May was on the phone, talking to a coworker. She stood in the kitchen and stared at him when he came into view. She held a hand over the cell and asked, “You’re… awake?” 

“Yup. It’s so weird. Saturday’s usually a sleep-in kind of day, but since I came back home from patrol yesterday, I thought I could start today early. I’m just going over to Ned’s for now, don’t worry. I won’t be in the suit till after lunch, unless I hear something happening. Promise! Bye!” 

“Uh uh! Hold it there, mister!” 

May’s snap made him freeze. Had he said too much? 

She gave a quick, “Call you back,” and turned to face him fully. 

“Is there anything you wanna tell me, Peter?” 

Peter blinked a couple of times. “Nope. I’m good. I’m really good. Not hiding anything!” 

_(Stop talking!)_

May let out a long breath. Her entire body seemed to slump over like a deflating balloon. Peter opened his mouth to explain that _no, really May, not going to do anything weird or dangerous, just regular Peter Parker and Spider-Man stuff –_

“Stark called me,” May cut him off. Peter shut his mouth fast, eyes bulging out. 

“Um… Mr. Stark called...?” 

“He called at three in the morning,” May continued, sounding testy. “Said something about reducing your curfew and territory for the next few weeks –”

“WHAT?!” 

“As a suggestion,” May said. “He hasn’t given me all the details, but since he sounded like a chain smoker on the phone, I figured it was important. Do you have something to tell me now?” 

Peter grabbed at the backpack strap over his shoulder. He was wearing his suit underneath his clothes with his mask shoved into the hoodie’s pocket. He wondered if the suit could read his rising vitals without the mask on. 

“It’s nothing! Mr. Stark called me yesterday ‘cause I went to Manhattan as Spidey. I barely did anything, just stopped a mugging. I swear, May, nothing dangerous happened yesterday.” 

May probably sensed that he wasn’t fibbing and relaxed a little. “Did you change into your regular clothes while you were there? Camera footage problems –”

“No, nothing like that. I just went with the Decathlon team to this bakery yesterday. In Manhattan, I mean. Nothing happened, though.” 

“Oh. Is that were the cheesecake came from?” May asked, smiling now and pointing to the fridge where Peter had kept one of the slices for her. 

“Right! I meant to tell you yesterday, I forgot.” 

Peter waited for May to check the cake piece. Then she said, “Okay, then. But Stark would know about dangerous things going on. And I want you to be careful.” 

“But May, I can’t not patrol on the weekends!” 

“You’re going over to Ned’s right? Finish your homework, do the things you usually do, and when you go for patrol, stick to Queens, okay. I’m not changing your curfew, it’s still one in the morning.” 

Damn it, Peter thought. 

“Yesterday, barely anything happened in Queens. I got bored waiting for a crime! Which is a bad thing, I don’t want a crime to happen. I just thought I’d go further out. It’s fine, May. I mean, I go to school in Manhattan! It’s not like I don’t know the place!” 

May sighed again. “I know, I know. But if Stark is calling at all hours of the night worried about you patrolling, I’m going to heed that. You can go up to Brooklyn if you want, but if I see anything about Spider-Man in Manhattan, I will not be pleased. Understand?” 

Peter pouted. He blinked up at her, praying she’d change her mind. 

“Nuh uh!” May warned, pointing a finger at him. “Turn off the puppy dog eyes, Parker. I will not have them here!” 

“Urgh!” 

Peter stomped out the house but could only hold the annoyance for a while. By the time he’d walked all the way to Ned’s place, Peter was already planning on disobeying May and Tony. 

Ned was surprised to hear that May had also forbid him from going to Manhattan. 

“Really?” He asked as Peter dropped his bag and fell on the bed, flopping onto his back. Ned’s room was slightly bigger than his with a good view of the different houses that stretched on to the east. If Peter looked out the window, he could squint enough to see what was happening at a Walmart, two miles over. 

“Dude, something big must be going down there,” Ned prompted. “Did Mr. Stark really sound worried?” 

“He was super serious about it,” Peter mumbled. “May said he might be worried. But yesterday, I didn’t get any anxiety about being there.” 

“Like, your tingling thing didn’t happen?” 

“It’s… oh my god, Ned. Don’t say tingling! My extra senses! They just didn’t prick or anything.” 

“Huh.” Ned sat on his swivel chair by the study desk. “So, do you not want to go –”

“Of course, I’m going, Ned!” 

“That’s not a surprise.” 

Peter flipped up to sit and face him. 

“Something’s happening. Something I can’t get a sense of, something that’s not in the news. We don’t know if this is good or bad, just that it is potentially bad. We need to be on top of it!” 

“I think Tony Stark’s on top of it.” 

“Then why would he sound worried?” 

Peter took out his mask and pulled it over his head. The lenses immediately came to life and KAREN’s voice came online, “Hello, Peter. Have you finished your homework already?” 

“No, no. Listen, KAREN. Does the suit monitor my vitals even if I don’t wear the mask?” 

“It does. But the data is stored only in my server. Mr. Stark will have to access it separately, aside from the default monitoring systems in FRIDAY if he wishes to check your status.” 

“He’d do that,” Peter said, feeling dejected. 

Ned spun around in his chair. “Then don’t wear the suit.” 

Peter sighed. “Yeah, I was thinking that. But wouldn’t it be more dangerous if I go to Manhattan without the suit than with it?” 

“We go to school in Manhattan.” 

“That’s what I said! You know, sometimes, adults make no sense.” 

Ned chuckled, using his feet to spin again. He stopped when he got dizzy. “You know what? Let’s go to _Antique Essence_ again.” 

The lenses on his mask widened. “Oh! Oh…kay… why, though?” 

Ned pointed to his laptop. “You said there aren’t any police reports to what’s happening. But if we need to start somewhere, we need to know when an incident happens. I can connect to the police scanners in that zone and we can wait in the bookstore. If nothing happens, that’s good, we can just hang out there.” 

Peter jumped up in excitement, “And if something does happen I can change into the suit in the store and check out whatever’s going down! Ned, I love you!” 

Ned grinned, extremely pleased with himself. “I am full of good ideas.” 

“Indeed,” KAREN said, making Peter’s heart plummet. “And now that I’ve heard your good idea, which involves breaking Mr. Stark’s rule –”

“KAREN, initiate shutdown!” Peter yelled in a panic.

The lights in his mask’s HUD whirred down and shut off. Peter pulled off the mask and winced. She wasn’t going to be happy about that. 

Ned was staring at him. “KAREN heard us, didn’t she?” 

“Yeah… but we’re going anyway.” 

~~~~~

Kaneki always found manning the pastry counter as unwinding down. He remembered his time from Anteiku, waiting at the tables and struggling to brew his first cups of coffee. There was a sense of intense nostalgia with this work. The bakery section of the store didn’t offer as many options with coffee or drinks as a café, but the cakes, quiches, muffins, and tarts more than made up for it. 

Of course, his time at Anteiku was incomparable to the present if solely for the fact his daughter existed now. 

Ichika sat at her high chair with him behind the counter, dutifully attending to her coloring book. Her sketches were filled with wonder and beauty. Her art was never curbed by the close minded lines of the images on the pages. It was a delight to see her talk and giggle to herself, busy in her world of fairies, dragons, and health inspectors. Kaneki could watch her all day. 

Touka was helping an elderly couple sort through self-help books near the glass window wall. The store was busier than usual, seeing as it was the weekend. Kaneki made quick work of the cake packaging for a small group of kids who were entranced by the strawberry shortcake twist. 

As the children left, he looked over the store. The couple were still deciding what books to take. Touka shot a quick look to her husband who smiled back. There was a girl seated on the floor, looking at the books propped on the lowest level of the last shelf. Kaneki could hear her steady heartbeat leap when she found interesting titles. 

There were three younger girls, maybe just ten years old, looking through a dictionary and giggling hysterically. Kaneki could remember going to the library with Hide and searching for ‘dirty’ words in the dictionary more than a decade ago. He felt embarrassed for himself. 

Hide needed no embarrassment. 

There were two boys seated at a corner table, at the end of the glass wall behind Touka. They looked to be working on school assignments. One of them had a laptop open with numbers and codes running across the screen. The other had a book open in front of him, but he seemed to be trying to read Touka more than his text book. Kaneki watched how the second boy kept turning his head to glance at her, face going red. 

This was what had scared Kaneki the most. When the two boys had walked in, the scent of the second boy had hit Kaneki hard. 

He didn’t smell human. There was a concentrated layer below his skin, bone deep, cell deep, that signified a uniqueness, an almost animal-like odour trying to hide behind the human scent. 

Touka had quickly whispered to Kaneki that he’d been to the store the previous day and had been quite sweet and shy with her. Not a threat at all. Even if he wasn’t human. 

“Mutant,” she had suggested, and Kaneki had nodded a little stiffly. 

The first boy smelt normal. Of soap and deodorant above the warm pulsing scent of absolute human. Kaneki kept a close eye on them over the course of the hour that they stayed, having ordered two quiches to feast on while they worked. 

Slowly, Kaneki’s worry had turned to annoyance because the second boy just couldn’t seem to look away from Touka. Occassionally, he would stare at Kaneki as well and turn even redder. 

Kaneki was sure he wasn’t glaring, even if he wished to. May be flash his _kakugan_ at the idiot. 

_That’s my wife, you tiny kid! Look out the window or at your book! You’ve been here long enough to draw her face from memory!_

The door to the store opened bringing in a fresh wave of customers. He turned his attention to them and took down all their orders. 

As he began cutting cake slices, he saw Ichika watching him curiously. 

“How’s the drawing?” He asked in a soft murmur. Ichika’s eyes lit up and she showed him her book. 

“This is a dragon restaurant,” she described, pointing at a scribbled in drawing of a garden. “They have a good business but the evil health inspector is gonna show up!” 

Kaneki stifled a loud laugh. A month ago, when the store had been brand new, a city health inspector had shown up with a letter to check out the premises and the kitchen behind the bakery. Touka and Kaneki had shown him around with grace, but Ichika had been stunned by the brusque standoffish attitude. She hadn’t been scared, thankfully, but held a strange fascination with health inspectors since then. 

“You know the inspector’s job is to make sure that the food is clean and the place is neat. He was just doing his job,” Kaneki chided. 

“Yeah,” Ichika puffed up her cheeks before blowing the air out. “But he was mean to the cook.” 

The small staff they had behind the store had been surprised by the inspection but professional all the same. Ichika had probably smelled the nervousness from the humans. 

Kaneki brushed his knuckles carefully over her cheek, watching as she laughed at the ticklish sensation. 

“What an adorable child!” One of the woman cried in English, looking over the counter directly at Ichika. The five year old shrunk away, suddenly timid from the eye contact. 

“Thank you,” Kaneki said, still not used to the abrupt conversation starters Americans used. Barely anyone actually greeted each other with a ‘hi’, ‘hello’, or ‘good morning.’ 

“She’s so sweet, does she go to school here? My nephew goes to Rainbow Academics, a couple of miles from here!” 

“Oh, no, we take a bus to drop her off at school.” 

Kaneki quickly sent her off with her order. The woman waved at Ichika merrily before leaving. 

“Americans are loud,” Ichika whispered to her dad. 

“Yeah.” 

Touka had just billed the couple with their books and sent them on their way. Then she walked over and said, “I’ll check the kitchen. There’s a lemon cake order for takeaway in twenty minutes –”

Kaneki’s barely used cellphone vibrated in his pocket. Both he and Touka stopped. There was a reason they avoided phone calls. Ayato was the one with the actual burner phone. Kaneki’s cell was for emergencies. 

“Daddy, you phone’s ringing!” Ichika whisper-yelled, assuming that she was being covert. Luckily, none of the customers in the store seemed to know Japanese, so they hardly looked up. In fact, Kaneki doubted anything would actually distract them from what they were doing. 

He quickly slipped the phone out and checked the caller ID. 

“Hide,” he told Touka. She nodded and took his place behind the counter as he walked across the book section towards the closet at the other end. 

Hideyoshi wouldn’t call unless there was a change in plans. 

“Hi there, Ken Kun,” Hide said, but his voice wasn’t as chirpy as usual. “How are you? How’s the Big Apple? Is it the land of dreams?” 

“It’s… loud. Very visible.” 

“I read Ayato’s last mail. Said the coffee there tastes terrible.” 

“Most of them do. Not all the drinks are from ground beans.” 

“Can’t imagine it. I hope you’re not selling any of that crap.” 

Kaneki smiled. The banter was settling in the soft, friendly zone, calming his nerves. Hide was probably doing it on purpose. 

“How’s Touka Chan and little Ichika?” 

“Good. We’re good. How are things over with the house leak?” 

“It’s still dripping, but we know how big the hole is.” 

Kaneki swallowed. Ever since the news had broken about the truth behind the Dragon attack on Tokyo, about the Sunlit garden, about Furuta’s insane plans, public outcry had caused the slow acceptance of ghoul citizens to practically halt. Hide had been on the lookout to see who had gotten all the papers that held proof of the truth. 

“Can you fix it soon? Wouldn’t want a flood.” Kaneki said, his fingers tightening around the phone. He knew Kaneki and Ichika were listening in. At least, their daughter wouldn’t understand. 

“We can. It was a just one area near the corner. It’s small. Hori San thinks plaster is enough. But that’s temporary, so we might go for a proper renovation. It won’t take long though. Just a couple of days.” 

A couple of months. 

One area – a private group was responsible for the leak. 

Small – less number of people in the group. 

Proper renovation – overhaul on how to manage it. A temporary solution of media blackout won’t help. 

Couple of days – two months. 

Just yesterday night, Yomo San had sent an email believing it would take a year. And he had been optimistic about that number. The new information had implications to their changing lifestyle. 

“What changed?” Kaneki asked, forgoing the code. 

Hide sounded a little miffed, but responded anyway, “Our ally. Yomo San has a friend who specializes in house renovations. The guy even suggested changing houses at first, but we didn’t want that. But he did say that problems like mold could spread.” 

Mold? 

That had been the word used to talk about the rogue ghouls who relished in murder. Reckless killings. Kaneki’s blood went cold at the thought of rabid and destructive ghouls from Japan moving into other countries. Their secret would be out. 

“So far,” Hide continued, voice steely. “The spread might be only in one other house. Yomo San’s friend’s house.” 

“And this friend…”

“You might be able to visit him, since you live closer to him than I do.” 

Kaneki stopped breathing for a moment. He heard Touka’s heartbeat thunder from across the store. 

Rabid ghouls in America. Nothing said rising political tensions than non-human perpetrators. 

“Did you analyse the mold?” Kaneki asked, gritting his teeth. The fight was supposed to be behind them. Suddenly, it didn’t matter if Kaneki and his family could go home in two months, if ghouls were caught in America, the whole world would know about it. 

Or worse, the American government would use them from other purposes. 

Mutants were already high on the ‘treat as potential enemies’ list. Immigrants were seen as equally unwanted. The white humans in power wouldn’t care about other species, and would outright hate anyone else who differed by the slightest. 

Kaneki’s hearing honed in on the second boy, seated at the table by the glass wall. The mutant smell that arose from him seemed to solidify his decision. 

“Send details about both houses. Today. A proper analysis first. Mold can get very bad, we don’t want it spreading.” 

“On it, boss. Give Ichika a hug for me.” 

“Will do.” 

The call ended and Kaneki closed his eyes, leaning against the cold wall. It started with a news leak. Something that could have been fixed if the paper trail hadn’t been hidden so well. 

And then humans started to point fingers at known CCG investigator Sasaki Haise. The rise of the blame of the dragon attack began and culminated with Kaneki having to disappear. Touka had refused to leave him. And Ichika could never stay away from her daddy. 

One short trip around the Pacific, and across the breadth of the United States should put enough distance between the problem and themselves. 

Either somebody had followed them here, or had decided that there was no point in keeping the secret any longer. 

Kaneki stepped out of the closet and stared at Touka who was behind the counter. They stood on opposite side of the store really, there was never much distance between them. 

His eyes hardened just as hers filled with resolve. She turned away to brush Ichika’s hair out of her face. Their daughter blinked, sensing the tension. She didn’t say a word. 

Tonight, Touka and Ayato would go and check the dog park. Kaneki would stay at home and read up on everything Hide would be sending him. 

Kaneki was so busy preparing for the future that he didn’t notice the second boy staring intensely at him, right there in the present. 

~~~~~

Rhodey had known Tony for long enough that this relapse into his destructive state shouldn’t be surprising. But he had hoped that Pepper’s ultimatum had given her fiancé enough strength to keep to his word. 

When he reached the tower and found Tony camping out in one of his private labs, Rhodey knew today would be a testy day for his patience. 

“How long has he been awake, FRIDAY?” Rhodey asked, pressing his hand against the scanner. The glass door swung aside letting him in. The volume of Metallica songs had never been so high before. The smell of grease, ozone, coffee, and singed hair slammed against his senses. 

It was going to be one of _those_ days.

Tony was predictably seated at the counter, goggles on and operating on a cylindrical metal plate, presumably for the next Iron Man armor suit. Beside him, holographic screens were open, running through several images. Red numbers would flash once in a while. 

“TONY!” Rhodey yelled, clapping his hands over his ears. “TURN IT OFF, FRIDAY!” 

The volume lessened considerably and Tony jerked his head up, nearly stumbling from his seat. He pushed his goggles off, relaxing when he spotted Rhodey. 

“Hey there, Honey Bear. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you for at least a week –”

“Yeah. Me neither. But I tried calling you all day and you didn’t pick up! FRIDAY said you found a new case to work on and we all know how you get when you start on something.” 

Rhodey grabbed a chair from the table and brought it towards the counter. Tony sat up and groaned, running a hand through his unwashed hair. “I didn’t… yeah, I’ve been looking up stuff. Strange stuff happening across the country. And not just ours.” 

“Tones, you can’t keep using that excuse! You need to prioritize people over this work. What d’you think Pepper’s gonna say when she find out –”

“She’s not – ” Tony cut himself off abruptly. “I’m not going to spend the whole day in this. I just need to find other instances that match the situation and crime scenes. If I can find the killer’s M.O., then the police can get a lead on the case.” 

Rhodey frowned, “What case, Tony?” 

Tony gave him the run down. Rhodey listened quietly, assessing the global implications of this new happening. 

“If it is a rabid mutant, the rework that the Accords are going through, would stop,” Rhodey realized. “Ross’s extreme tactics might actually be favored. 

“Tell me about it,” Tony said, stretching his arms above his head. “Vision’s covering up Wanda’s tracks. But obviously, this can’t get out or we’d have mayhem.” 

“Are you an hundred percent sure this isn’t a human crime?” 

Tony turned in his seat and brought two of the holographic screens closer to them. 

“These three photographs were sent by Wanda. I looked up the crime scenes in the other three spots she’d mentioned. FRIDAY’s tracked similar cases and descriptions in all these other reports and images spread across the country. So far, we’ve only found one corpse and that’s in Malibu. Everything else seemed to have missing bodies. Look at the cemetery.” 

“Damn,” Rhodey swore, widening his eyes. Some of the crime scenes were brutal. Violence was plenty in these recorded images. There were sparse blood splatters across the photos. 

“Three CIA experts have analyzed superhuman strength used in most of these instances,” Tony said. Then he pointed to the image showcasing the body in Malibu. “The forensic report read that someone actually ripped out the victim’s head and leg. Nobody’s found the pieces.” 

“We have no camera recordings?” Rhodey asked in disbelief. He brought one of the screens closer to him and enlarged the image. The gruesome sight made him blink enough that he focused the image on the broken bits of the wall, and debris scatter. 

“Nothing enough to piece together a profile. This video here,” Tony brought the other screen to show a short recording from a traffic camera, of two silhouettes walking into a dark alley, and minutes later, only one person walking out. 

“This one is the best there is,” Tony answered, frustration and lack of sleep showing up in his voice. “Description is vague at best. The suspect’s 6’0’’, and wearing a suit with a scarf covering his head.” 

“Lean and muscle,” Rhodey pointed out. “How much have you zoomed in?” 

“It’s too grainy. FRIDAY can only work so much on shitty base material,” Tony grumbled. He reached for a mug on the counter, half full of coffee gone cold. 

“Where did Wanda get this info from?” 

“Fury. That’s what Vision’s been looking into. Fury’s been off the grid. And Wanda’s moved after sending the details, so…” Tony shrugged, face crumpling after taking a swig from the mug. 

“Tony, the code here is Morse.” 

Rhodey was staring at the image of the body in Malibu. The enlarged image was grainy that some of the dots surrounding the date printed at the bottom looked like dashes. And Rhodey could almost read the dots and dashes. 

“What?!” Tony yelped. “FRIDAY, scan!” 

A blue light filter read the section Rhodey had been examining. The dots and dashes were highlighted and Rhodey inhaled. 

It was a short sentence. 

**Triangle Hate.**

Tony stared, “What’s ‘Triangle Hate’? Who hates triangles?” 

“Fury,” Rhodey mumbled. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Fury doesn’t like triangles. Hates the instrument, hates triangle cut sandwiches –”

“That eye-patch must be poisoning his brain,” Tony mumbled. Then he started, “Wanda got this from Fury.” 

Rhodey sat back. “If you hadn’t been so sleep-deprived, you would’ve spotted this, Tones.” 

“Oh come on!” Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes. “FRIDAY, how far are we along with contacting our favorite pirate?” 

“Facial recognition has failed, Boss,” FRIDAY sounded sad for having let them down. “He is nowhere in Greece. But my statistics indicate he has access to the face mask technology previously used by SHIELD agents.” 

“We won’t be able to find him like that,” Rhodey sighed. “We need to track the patterns he would have set. Why would Fury encrypt the message in the photograph?” 

Tony frowned at the dots and dashes. “He wants to talk to us. He needs to…”

Rhodey waited but Tony didn’t continue. Understandable. If there was more information about this that Fury couldn’t risk sending through the Rogues, it was undeniably critical. 

“Well,” Tony muttered, shoulders slumping again. “If all else fails, we can just check all the hideouts in the world where strange men cut their toast into rectangular pieces. That would be a memorable restaurant suggestion.” 

It could have been worse, Rhodey decided. Tony could have lapsed back into the depressive state he was in right after returning from Siberia.


	3. On a United Front

Peter dropped his head onto the book in front of him. 

“Are you done staring at them?” Ned asked, not looking up from his laptop. 

The book muffled his groan. Peter could still feel the heat in his face. 

“C’mon, Pete. You’ve seen good looking people before –”

“I know! It’s just… ” Peter blinked up at him. “You’ve ever come across people in real life, and they’re so pretty you need a moment to self-evaluate?” 

Ned raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. I get that. But you’ve been staring at them for the past hour. There’s a line between gazing and creeping.” 

“Oh god,” Peter whispered. 

And then (he couldn’t help it), his head turned again. He caught sight of the bakery owner’s husband who was now muttering something to his daughter behind the counter. 

Peter stared for a solid five seconds before swiftly turning back to Ned. 

“You don’t think I’m creeping on them, do you?” 

Ned fixed him with a look. 

“Why do they have to be so beautiful?!” Peter whisper-yelled. His ears had been perpetually hot ever since he’d laid eyes on the tall man. The owner’s husband had pepper and salt hair, but looked young enough to be in his late twenties. He was gentle. Gorgeous was the word Peter would have used if he could slow down his brain. 

But the tense hold of his shoulders made Peter’s thought process take a turn. Something was bothering the husband. It made Peter feel sad, wishing he could help. 

It must have been the phone call. The conversation with the person on the other end had been entirely in Japanese. But Peter had heard his pulse quicken and his tone fall in doubt and probably even shock. Something had happened and that had disappointed or scared the husband. 

Peter looked over at the owner. She gave her husband a small smile as he disappeared into the kitchen. Then she busied herself with some receipts, head down, lips turned surly. 

Peter stood up. It was none of his business. May be a family issue. Probably nothing he could do, not as Spider-Man, and certainly not as Peter Parker. 

“Pete?” Ned called, confused as Peter waved a hand to calm him. He walked up to the counter. 

“Um… hello?” He waited till she looked up at him, purple-blue eyes shining. Peter swallowed, wondering if he’d interrupted her attempt at holding back tears. 

“Hello! Do you have another order?” She said, quickly switching to a customer-approved voice. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Um… yes. I’d, uh… like to have two slices of the red velvet cake,” he mumbled. 

She nodded and set aside a notepad. “Would you like eggless or with egg?” 

“Egg is fine… um, do you need a tissue?” 

Even as Peter watched, one of her eyes seemed to flicker. The owner quickly squeezed hers eyes shut, wiping her face. 

“It is fine,” she whispered, immediately bringing out a plate. “Would you like to have the pieces here or as takeout?” 

Peter hesitated. It was none of his business…

“I just wanted to say… your cakes are delicious. I really loved the blueberry cheese from yesterday… my aunt loved them too. But her favorite is red velvet… Yeah, I’d like it as a parcel, thank you!” 

Peter made sweater paws out of his long sleeves, hoping his face wasn’t as red as he felt. The owner gave him a quick tilt of the head as she brought out a small box to place the cake in. 

“Thank you, I am glad your aunt liked the cake.” 

“Yeah… ” 

Just do it. 

“Whatever is bothering you, it will get better,” Peter said in a rush. 

The owner froze in her movements, staring at him in shock. Peter tried not to pause. He hoped she wouldn’t yell at him. 

“If it’s a family thing… or a personal thing… it could be both, like family is personal… sorry, I beat around the bush a lot, what I mean is that, I hope things turn out good for you. You’re a really nice person and your family’s really great… like, yeah… you’ve made this store into such a wonderful space for complete strangers. And I am a complete stranger, you don’t know me, but I wanted to say that this place is nothing like the outside. And that’s really great because sometimes we just need time and space for ourselves.

“What I mean is… this store really helps me… I have a kind of anxiety about loud noises, sensory stuff, and your shop helps me calm down. So, thank you, I think you’re really awesome for choosing an ambience like this. That’s not supposed to be as creepy as it sounds… I was just saying… you went beyond regular shop policies to make this store amazing ‘cause you care about the customers. That’s super nice. That’s… I hope your future will be kind, just like how you’re kind to us.” 

Peter had to stop because she was still staring, stunned. She blinked and leaned back, hair falling over her right eye. 

The little girl sitting next to the locked register chirped, speaking in swift Japanese. She sounded awed, gazing up at Peter. 

He tried for a smile and gave her a quick wave, taking a peek at the drawing in front of her. He identified scaly dragon creatures, seated on tables with a variety of delicacies placed in front of them. 

“Is that a dragon tea party?” Peter whispered. “That’s pretty cool.” 

“You are a stranger,” the owner said in a solemn voice. Peter jerked back, worried she was about to lash out, but she gave him a sad smile instead. 

“But you are kind too. Thank you. I needed to hear that.” 

She looked down at the cake pieces in the box, deliberating on something. Then she closed it and taped the edge. 

“You can have this for free. For you and your aunt. She has done a good job with you.” 

Peter’s jaw dropped. He knew he’d be digging into his emergency savings to pay for it, but he hadn’t meant to say all that to get it for free. 

“Oh no, you don’t have to – ” 

“Please, I insist,” she looked like she was about to cry again. 

Peter swallowed and took the box. 

“Call me Kirishima,” she said in the same tone – brave and hopeful. 

“Yes, okay! Thank you, Ms. Kirishima… or Mrs. Kirishima –”

“Ms. works.” 

She gave a sweet smile, one that had her wet eyes lighting up. Peter felt his face burst into flames and quickly hugged the box, nodding vigorously. 

By the time he reached Ned, Peter was sweating. 

“Oh jeez, what happened?” Ned asked, looking alarmed. 

Peter placed the box on the table and stared at the logo of Antique Essence on the top. The lovely cursive writing seemed to mimic the gentle nature of Ms. Kirishima and her husband. It stood for everything that the family meant, seemed to exude. 

They were good. Peter was sure of that. He never had a flicker of fear bubbling up from the nape of his neck the way he did when he was in danger. A kind of sixth sense… a tingle of sorts. 

“Um… I think they’re in trouble,” Peter muttered under his breath. Ned sat back, looking worried. 

“Is it ‘cause they’re new? Some assholes might want them to leave and stuff.” 

Peter grimaced. Suddenly, the idea of patrolling from Manhattan was doubly appealing. But not for the same reason Mr. Stark wanted him to stay away. 

“May be I should keep an eye on them?” 

Ned sighed. “You want to drop the thing we’re looking for? Because I just realized that Hell’s Kitchen isn’t too far away from here.” 

“Huh?” 

“You know? Daredevil’s territory? If something’s going down in Manhattan, it might involve him.” 

Peter exhaled, realizing that Ned was probably right. Hell’s Kitchen was a stone’s throw away from Midtown. It had been a source of a lot of problems in the city. 

But Daredevil was a force to be reckoned. If something was going down, he’d been able to take care of it. Although if it was an Avengers level threat, could the vigilante manage it on his own? 

No… Mr. Stark was keeping an eye on it. Which meant whatever was happening, would be under relative control. 

May be Peter really was butting in? 

He looked down at the box and finally opened it. The two red velvet slices seemed to settle all his nerves. The white cream and the red sprinkles on the top made him smile. Peter took out one of the pieces. 

“Hey, Ned?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Wanna share? After this, you gotta help me make it up to KAREN. I owe her.” 

~~~~~

Nick Fury was quite commonly known as the most paranoid and the most dangerous person on the planet. He took great pleasure in that title. 

He was also quite recognizable which was why the masquerade was necessary. 

His shaved face and heavy wig, with locs falling over his scarred eye was not a revolutionary look. It felt worrisome to remove the eye-patch, but it had been necessary. The dull, faded, torn and patched clothing was also part of the ensemble to sell an aura of someone who didn’t want to interact with people. 

What truly sold the disguise was the tabby cat sitting on his knee. 

If Goose excelled at something (other than eating things ten times her own size, or a million times more radioactive), it was blending in. 

Right now, she made a wonderful companion to a man down on his luck, sitting on a cardboard sheet that had once covered a washing machine. The alley way was damp and smelled of wet clothes and rotting food. 

Fury strained his ears to listen in on the sounds of the roads outside. He’d chosen this spot because it was remarkably similar in size and proportion to the crime scene of the dismembered body in the alleyway in Long Island. 

It was quiet enough since the people in the apartments were out during the day for work or classes, or they slept in if they had night shifts. 

Scouting the place wasn’t the only reason why Fury was here. 

His watch gave a shot vibration and Fury lifted the ragged shawl he’d thrown over himself to cover his front. Goose jumped to the dirty ground and kept watch for anyone deciding to spy on him. 

Fury tapped the watch and waited for the hologram to flicker to life. 

Stark and Rhodes’ faces were visible in the blue pixels. 

“Took you long enough,” Fury grumbled. 

“Too long,” Rhodes said, shooting Stark a glare. 

“Santa Monica,” Fury said, starting the code. “Long Island.” 

“Malibu and Manhattan,” Stark finished, face twitching with impatience. “I like the new style. Please tell me you’re gonna keep the dreads.” 

Fury wasn’t interested in giving Stark time to chat. “Have you gotten a lead?” 

“Definitely non-human.” 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah. This is going to screw up the Accords even more than they already are.” 

“Forget the Accords, they’re done,” Fury snapped. “We need to snap this in the bud before civilians or anyone outside our borders find out.” 

“How deep does it go?” Rhodes asked, frowning. 

Fury narrowed his eye. “It can open a world of worms. When you find the culprit, do not let it go public. I need your hold over the case. Rhodes can take over if he can exercise military jurisdiction.” 

“On what grounds?” Rhodes asked, exasperated. “You haven’t given us anything more to go on.” 

“I gave you only those leaks because that’s what alive in the high tier circles. If you’ve figured out that the perpetrator’s non-human –”

“So can anyone else with this information.” Stark groaned. “The ‘non-existing’ reports also came to the same conclusion.” 

“They can be easily written away. It’s the ones working above the laws that’s disconcerting.” 

“Above?” 

Fury knew by the looks on Rhodes and Stark’s faces that they were all thinking of the same person. 

Stark moved away from the hologram and opened another screen full of text. Rhodes turned back to Fury. 

“You’re not in Greece, are you?” 

“No.” 

“The States?” 

“I’m not an idiot to just drop by the same place where everyone thinks I’m dead. Think more west.” 

“What’s more west than USA?” 

Fury knew that the line was secure. He knew that the sensors and inhibitors placed in the alley diverted anyone’s attempt to electronically spy on him in his lone corner. He knew that Goose would be able to spot anyone trying to physically walk towards them with the intent of eavesdropping. 

Even then, he wouldn’t give away info on his trip to Tokyo. They didn’t need to know that. 

Not to mention, Yomo Renji had politely asked him to keep that news quiet. 

Fury had never met anyone more stoic at heart as him than Yomo Renji. They were cut from the same cloth. 

“The culprit’s looking for someone in Manhattan,” Fury said. “Can’t give you any more than that.” 

“And you want us to cover up the whole story?” Stark demanded, leaving his screen and coming back to the hologram. 

“Tie up all loose ends, keep it clean, make sure the truth is wiped away. It’s easy for the three of us to see this as a mess of non-human activity, but there are people depending on the secret to stay that way. There are many lives at stake.” 

“You know, Fury. This is the first time I’ve gotten credible acknowledgement that you’re on the side of the mutants. You do have a heart.” 

“Have I made myself clear?” Fury asked, through gritted teeth. Stark smirked. 

Rhodey scowled. “Employing my influence will draw attention from those who work above the law.” 

“Then we go out and do it ourselves,” Stark explained. “I need a break. Pepper’s been pushing me to take it easy.” 

“Your idea of taking it easy is to go under the radar and sniff out a murderer who doesn’t care about outing mutants?” 

“We can make it a date, sweetie pie. You and me together in a couple of stealth suits, undercover in the light of a full moon, ready to bash brains.” 

Stark batted his eyelashes at Rhodes. Fury had no idea how the Colonel put up with this shit for over twenty years. Even Natasha, the most level headed agent he had, had grown tired of Stark outrageous behavior within the few weeks of her working as Natalie Rushman at Stark Industries. 

Or maybe that was his way of weeding out fakers. 

Fury hated that thought. It meant that Stark was smarter than everyone assumed, which was really saying something. 

Goose gave a soft meow. Fury looked up and found her looking up the street, eyeing a patron outside a bar two blocks away. 

“Quiet and controlled,” Fury growled at the men. “I don’t want rumors or fan theories about mysterious thruster burns around the city.” 

He closed the hologram, and opened another window, letting Maria Hill know that the call was over. Fury kept an eye on the unmoving form of the suspicious bar patron who still had Goose’s keen eye. 

In four seconds, a blue van pulled up to the entrance of the alleyway. Fury picked up Goose and opened the sliding door of the van, as they packed away quickly. 

“Top Gun worked out?” Hill asked, eyes on the road. Fury observed her stiff shoulders, the tight knuckled grip on her hands on the steering wheel and allowed himself a moment to breathe out in relief, before building up the mask again. 

“Goose was perfect. Weren’t you, sweetheart?” 

Goose purred as he scratched just behind her ears, the way she liked it best. 

“We have eyes on the cake. Renji got a friend to call them. The family will be ready to move in two months.” 

“Too long. The murderer’s in Manhattan.” 

“That can be dealt with,” Hill replied, eyes made of steel. “So are we.” 

Fury wondered how long Rhodes and Stark would assume that he was on the other side of the world. Renji was taking care of things in Tokyo. Fury would make sure things in New York were just as clean. 

~~~~~

When the call ended, Rhodey stood up and sighed. 

“You get the feeling he’s not where he says he is?” 

Tony snorted. “This is Fury. He’s definitely not where he says he is. What did he say? More west than USA. What’s more west than USA?” 

“The East,” Rhodey answered. 

Tony looked up from the screen he’d opened. He had a sudden gleam in his eyes. 

“Huh. FRIDAY open a window based only on the intranet line, lock out everything else. Search international mutant-potential news from Asia. Avoid regulated target words if and when possible.” 

“Searching approved databases,” FRIDAY’s work came up on screen, bringing up incident files and reports of thousands of cases. She worked to translate all the articles in English and Rhodey stepped closer to check the growing list. 

“Refine search,” Rhodey said. “Find correlation with the four cases from the US.” 

Some of the open tabs disappeared, but more came to fill up its place. 

“That’s a lot,” Tony mumbled, staring up at the vast array of growing potential threat sources. “What do you think the ones working above the law would say if they saw reality?” 

Rhodey gave a wry smile, “Ross’s mustache might just fall off if he saw this.” 

It took another twenty minutes for the search to narrow down to a final top ten list of incidents. 

Rhodey knew they were on the right track now. All ten cases were based in Japan. 

Tony expanded the first incident report. It was about leaked files from a dissolved organization called CCG. There was no expansion given. 

“This is hella redacted,” Tony said. Rhodey opened the other cases. 

“They’re hiding something. Probably the real population number of mutants. After the explosion in Vienna, the Accords lost favor with some countries. A lot of the mutants and enhanced went back into hiding and the governments encourage them to stay out of sight. It was back to the ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ situation.” 

“Damn,” Tony cursed. “How do they call it ‘acceptance’ when they just tell people to pretend to be boring and useless?” 

“False information spreading, exaggerated rumors, making mountains out of mole hills… Fury’s right,” Rhodey nodded, clenching his jaw. “If something from Japan is affecting us here, it could invite unwanted investigations to hit innocents. Whatever rework the Accords are going through would become useless. Undercover’s our best option.” 

“Yay. You’ll love the stealth suit concept I had. It should still be here somewhere…”

~~~~~

When it was half past 11 at night, Ayato showed up. 

“Stay safe,” Kaneki whispered, kissing Touka’s temple. She closed her eyes to revel in the soft comfort of his affection. 

“You too.” 

“If anything feels out of place, leave at once,” he insisted, looking at Ayato and then back at her. “Stay in the shadows, observe from a distance if it’s too risky to get close.” 

“We know the drill, Your Majesty,” Ayato coughed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and jerked his head towards the door. 

Touka turned briefly to look at Ichika, sleeping deeply in their room. The comforter draped over her rose and fell in slow intervals. 

She turned without another word and followed her younger brother out the door. 

They wore dark clothes, hoods up, light sneakers – ready to disappear in a moment’s notice. Her heart hammered as they walked up to the closed dog park. 

“Four,” Ayato whispered. He took a right and disappeared down the first alley of the block. Touka continued walking, listening to him leap up the balconies to reach the top floor of the short apartment building. She counted the alleys, found the fourth turn and walked into the shadows. 

Now, she revealed her kakugan, eyes flaring in black and red tones. The shadows change colors and she could see perfectly in the dark. 

No one spotted her, bending her knees and jumping up two floors to catch a run of the fire exit running up one side of the building. She took another leap and reached the terrace. 

“Good?” Ayato asked. He was situated on top of the first building, with an eagle eye view of the north side of the park’s crime scene. Touka faced the east side of the scene. 

“Good,” she whispered back and waited for him to pick up her response. Their keen ears could detect the night life buzzing from the busier parts of the city. But this corner was a lonely and dark place. A few stragglers moved along, drunk or bone tired or both. 

Touka crouched down and paid attention to her surroundings. They needed to wait long enough to see that the area wasn’t under observation. If Hinami had been here, she could scour the whole place from the safety of five buildings away. 

Honestly, Touka was glad she wasn’t here. There were enough ghouls in the mix anyway. 

Touka heard Ayato shuffling around his spot before kneeling down to stay put. 

They waited for an hour. 

Sleep was held at bay even with the dwindling adrenaline. Touka tried to avoid the cold and biting wind that made her want to shut her eyes. 

From her viewpoint, she noticed the dug up earth, the faint remains of clotted blood, and the yellow police tape surrounding half the park. Focusing on the same spot for a while made her mind want to wander. 

She briefly thought back to the day, right after Ken’s call with Hide. That mutant boy had come up to her and… basically poured his heart out? 

It hadn’t just been the words, but the sincerity behind them. 

‘Kind’. That’s what he’d said. 

When she and Ken had first planned to move to New York, they just wanted to build a front that could stay away from anyone’s suspicion. It wouldn’t do good to attract attention. All they had to do was run the store and hide among the millions that lived here. 

Except… when the owner leased out the place to them, when Ken and Touka saw the empty space, the old shelves with sad books, they’d wanted to change it. 

May be they weren’t doing it for the customers. But it helped them. Touka remembered gushing about the pastries she’d wanted to try. Ken’s love for books had never dwindled all his life. 

Their cover story settled into a hopeful life that she’d wanted back in Tokyo. 

And since they couldn’t get that there, they’d tried it here. And it’d worked. 

People loved the place. They loved the cozy corners between the book shelves, loved the variety of cakes and coffees that were available. 

They loved the new atmosphere of this tiny world, far away from the city life right outside the glass walls. 

This boy loved the effort they’d put in, not recognizing the sham. Was she tricking him? 

Touka gripped the low wall edge and strained her eyes over at the dog park. 

The boy had been kind. She wished she could repay it. 

“Touka chan!” Ayato hissed. 

Touka jerked up, realizing that he’d already called her a couple of times. 

“Yes, I’m here –”

“Get over here, you’re not going to believe this! Stay low.” 

Touka heard the disbelief and anger in his voice. Something was wrong. 

She ran to the side and climbed down, sticking to the shadows and staying as silent as possible. She jumped onto the balcony of the penthouse of the next building, climbing over it and doing the same again, and again, until she found herself kneeling beside Ayato on the smelly roof of his vantage point. 

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of a specific spot, nowhere near the dog park. 

She touched his shoulder and looked over at the closed down utility building across the clearing of the park. A To-Let board hung over the window. 

Touka looked past the board, into the darkness and found two suits of armor. 

Armor. 

The head plates had a very familiar design. She’d seen those all the time in the magazines and newspapers they stocked in the non-fiction section of their store. 

“Avengers,” Ayato whispered, stunned. 

Touka gawked at the armor. She’d never seen it in real life. Never with her own eyes. But they didn’t look the same as the flashy red and gold suits that had always been featured in quick clips. These were black with no lights emanating from them. But size and build were roughly the same. 

Things had just gone from bad to worse. 

Suddenly the headplates of both armors turned to gaze right up at Touka and Ayato. 

The pair froze but quickly averted their gazes, falling back to one of the redundant back-up plans. 

“Airbud is way better!” Ayato slurred loudly in a god awful English tone. 

Touka pretended to drop her head onto the terrace and giggle uncontrollably. She found an empty bottle thrown to the side and reached around with her feet to kick it. 

A few moments later, the armor suits turned back to the dog park. 

“How did we not hear them?” Ayato asked, irritated. “He has those rocket boots, right? It should have been loud.” 

“The suits are different,” she whispered. “May be it’s not him.” 

“May be they’re spying on the crime scene too.” 

Touka swore. They weren’t supposed to bring in interest from the government. Yomo might have said that they had help from Americans, but he could not mean the American government! 

“We need to call United Front,” Touka realized. 

~~~~~ 

“Fury’s in New York!” 

Steve nearly choked on his baked beans. Natasha thumped him on his back. 

Sam looked back in disbelief. He was up front, checking the engine of their tiny little boathouse. 

Wanda had just rushed up with the news, breaking the misplaced peace of the Mediterranean. 

They’d moved right after Fury had last contacted them. Working on the assumption that he was too far away from home, and had no choice but to relay news through the rogues, they’d made sure to switch safe-houses. 

“No, no! He was in Japan! We got that just last night!” Sam complained. 

Nat stood up as Wanda tossed a USB drive to her. She placed it on the holo-table and opened the single window message Wanda had saved. 

It was an article about a bakery. 

“I think you have the wrong drive, Wanda,” Sam muttered, walking into the small space. 

Their boathouse smelled like seaweed. It was one of the designated safe spots Steve had assigned in case the previous had been stormed. The four of them floated on the Mediterranean Sea, staying close to shore, but far enough to be mistaken for a fishing boat. 

Sam squeezed in between Wanda and Nat. Wanda flicked his shoulder. 

“This is Hill’s writing,” Steve remarked standing up to read the article. 

By writing, he meant the random scratched out words of the article. Nat opened a new window and began to decode the hand encryption. 

“Stand…by…Priority…royal…presence…Antique… legacy.” 

“It’s like Blackout Poetry,” Wanda intoned. 

“Royal presence,” Sam blinked. “Are they talking about the Queen of England?” 

“It could be any royal family. But the article is about the bakery and the owners haven’t been photographed.” 

Nat enlarged the only photo of the article. It was a front view of the entrance of a bakery called ‘Antique Essence.’ The picturesque scene gave it a sweet and inviting aura. 

“No mention of the owners in the article too. Paper didn’t take their permission before printing this out,” Sam observed. 

Nat hummed, looking up the details. Whatever Fury was working on was big. But it had to stay quiet especially if it regarded mutants and royalty. 

Which meant this should never reach international news. 

Which meant this would never help them go back home. 

Nat held in the bubbling impatience and worked to find a secure search engine to get to the owners. 

There was a promising link on a shady looking website that were filled with ‘mutant’ sightings. 

A candid pic of three individuals came up. A man, a woman, and a little girl, holding the hand of the man. They looked like a very unassuming family out about their day. 

The details below gave the names. 

_**Saito and Hori Kirishima, with daughter Hina, trying an American hot dog.** _

Steve frowned at the sentence. “That’s Japanese.” 

Nat translated it for them. “This website is monitoring the family’s movements.” 

Wanda breathed in, eyes wide. “Witness protection?” 

“May be. If they’re mutants and royalty and targeted, they could have gone to the States under security measures.” Sam folded his arms. 

Steve’s forehead developed wrinkles. “There still isn’t much we can do from here. We can send over the data to Vision, but beyond that… what does Fury expect from us?” 

Nat leaned back. “If they’re in witness protection, they’d have a handler.” 

The penny dropped. 

“Jeez,” Sam whispered in awe. “What’s their priority level is Nick Fury is in charge of their case?” 

“High enough.” Steve placed his hands on the table to observe the article. “We won’t have a choice here. Start up a separate search for the four crime scenes and link it to similar problems arising in Japan. See if we can place the family there.” 

“We’ll have to delete the trails so nobody else can find them,” Nat said already on it. 

“Then do it. Wanda, send a copy of this to Vision. Sam, how long until we reach the port?” 

“Two hours.” 

“Man the helm,” Steve said, purpose burning behind his eyes. Then he paused, shoulders stiffening. 

“I’m sorry that this isn’t our ticket out, but we can do it. We’ve stayed out of sight for this long, we can keep it up for longer. We just need to stick together, keep the morale up.” 

Nat couldn’t even attempt a smile at Steve’s little speech. And it wasn’t just because his words lacked the usual full strength of his resolve, but because she was beginning to reach the end of her private hope of turning the boat homewards. 

They were just off the docking point when Nat found the first credible hit. 

“Holy mother of…”

She trailed off, reading the whole document. Steve and Wanda rushed in from their posts and Sam yelled, “Nat, you okay?” 

“This is something beyond mutants,” she said, directing their attention to the new documents filling up the hologram. 

Wanda mouthed the words, “Commission of Counter Ghoul”. 

Ghoul. 

Ghoul. 

“Ghoul,” Natasha said out loud. “That’s real. Ghouls are real.” 

She needed a vacation. Some down time away from the building craziness. 

“Japan has ghouls,” Steve said, sounding just as shocked as her. “I thought they were myths.” 

“Myths aren’t myths anymore, Steve,” Wanda surmised, taking it a little more in stride than the other two. “I remember reading about ghouls before bedtime. They were spirits who lived in cemeteries and ate organs from the freshly buried.” 

“These don’t look like spirits,” Sam pointed out, walking back into the room. 

Nat looked up at the first image they’d opened. The family of three looked too sweet and gentle to be blood-thirsty monsters. 

But she of all people should know that appearances could be deceiving. 

“These documents were leaked months ago. Check the dates on those, Nat. Someone wanted to out ghouls in the country.” 

“I guess we’re lumping in ghouls with the mutants.” Sam sounded incredulous. “Are we sure that they really aren’t threats?” 

“These can live on dead human bodies,” Nat said, quickly running all the files through translation filters. “They lived in harmony with the humans for five years. Ghouls have been vouched for by the TSC – Tokyo Security Committee. It’s the organization that took over when CCG fell… They’re working along with the ghouls to keep the peace.” 

“ _Keep the peace_ doesn’t always mean good,” Steve said in his ‘agenda is poisonous’ voice. 

“It’s a little more hopeful than that, Cap. Calm down,” Nat said, letting her lips turn up. “They’ve maintained transparency about food source for half a decade. They’ve stuck to dead bodies in most cases.” 

“Most cases.” 

Nat read ahead. 

Found it. 

“Rogue ghouls,” she said. “They wanted to leave the strong hold. TSC works in collaboration with a ghoul organization… United Front. Both groups have stuck to the corpse feeding to make sure human lives weren’t threatened.” 

“I guess some preferred live food.” 

Nat nodded. “They leaked the documents of the old organization who used to hunt down ghouls for decades. Everything came to light. All the fights, the battles, dangerous weapons wielded by both ghouls and humans… it set the peace back. It drove the royal family away.” 

The next image that came up was of Saito and Hori Kirishima. 

Except the names this time were Ken Kaneki and Touka Kirishima. They were younger in this photo, probably from five years ago. 

And they were far from the gentle faces from now. 

They stood to the side of a demolished room, unaware of the camera that had clicked their picture. Their eyes were black with red irises. At least the woman’s eyes were that. Nat could see it even through the fringe that threatened to hide half her face. 

The man’s eyes were different from each other. One flaring red and black, the other soft and grey. 

The large room around them contained broken walls and pulsing flesh. Bodies were strewn around them. 

Nat found another file. “Ken Kaneki leads the United Front. His wife, Kirishima, is one of the peacekeepers. Backlash from the document leak forced them to escape the country.” 

“What’s on her back?” Sam asked, enlarging the photo. 

Nat tilted her head to gauge the odd assortment of colors that seem to sprout out of the woman’s back. It sparkled in red and black, slighted distorted by the grainy quality of the photo. 

“Wings,” Wanda whispered. 

“You’re kidding. Ghouls can fly?” 

“Fury is backing these two. By extension, he’s sided with the United Front and TSC,” Steve sighed. “We need to track the rogue ghouls in the States, make sure they’re not going after the royal family. Get a link to Vision, this needs to be a face to screen conversation.” 


	4. Unbox This World of Worms

It was bright and early when Peter switched on KAREN in his HUD. He sat on his bed, mask over his head while he was still in pajamas.

The screen behind the lenses came to life and KAREN’s usual opening message began. 

“All systems are online and functional. Server is at an optimal level.”

She didn’t greet him, though.

Peter pressed his lips together, leaned against his bed post. “KAREN, are you mad at me?”

He listened to the soft whir of electricity running through the wires embedded around the mask. KAREN seemed to be thinking how to respond as she hesitated in giving an immediate reply.

“My directive is to ensure your safety at all times. Patrolling as Spider-Man places you in way of serious harm. Mr. Stark’s instructions are to solely guide you in learning to use the extent of your abilities to help those in need. If your health and well-being are compromised, it does not help to view the instructions as restrictions.”

She sounded a little too diplomatic, but Peter didn’t think she was all that displeased with him.

“I didn’t go to Manhattan as Spider-Man.”

“I deduced as much,” KAREN said, sounding more relaxed. “Your breathing patterns are more consistent with truthful body language and an apologetic tell. But my redundant tracer application does show that you took the suit out to the bakery, _Antique Essence_.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah… your report sounds creepy, KAREN. You shouldn’t stalk people.”

“Were _you_ stalking anybody at the bakery, Peter?”

Peter sat up, spine ramrod straight. “No! Oh jeez, I told Ned too, I wasn’t stalking! It’s not creepy to stare at a beautiful person, okay?”

“The definition of stalker involves various disturbing behaviors including invasion of privacy and lack of understanding of the target person. Peter, you do not behave in such a manner, and if you did, I have protocols in place to discourage such actions. I will call your aunt and Mr. Stark and fill them in on any unhealthy behaviours that can lead to injury of others of yourself.”

“Oh my god!” Peter clapped his hands over his face and groaned. KAREN’s voice started out in a serious tone, but had a light teasing lilt to it by the end. Even though the topic was serious, he could tell she was taking the mick out of him.

“Or maybe you would prefer the term ‘stalker fan’ or the shortened word ‘stan’. I can observe similarities between your actions and that of those who _stan_ celebrities.”

“That’s not - wait, that’s what stan means?!” Peter grimaced. “Ew! That’s gross! I’m not stanning anyone, KAREN!”

KAREN didn’t haze him anymore and Peter exhaled in relief.

“I’m sorry for shutting you down when you were trying to help me. I just thought it would be better if I was at the forefront of whatever big’s going down in Manhattan.”

KAREN voice was soft now. “What changed your mind, Peter?”

He tilted his head, twisted his body and collapsed on the bed. Rolling onto his back, Peter stared up at the underside of the top bunk.

“I figured… that if Mr. Stark says he’s got it handled, then… he does. If he needed help, maybe he won’t call me. But there are other superheroes, you know? Like Vision. He’s a super computer merged with an android! Or you know, the vigilantes living closer to Manhattan and Midtown. They’re older and better at fighting than me. I’m still a kid.

“But me being a kid doesn’t mean I should stick to ground level stuff only. It just means… well, I guess somebody has to stay down here, while everyone goes to fight in the sky. Major crimes and super duper villains are bombtastic, and there are people like Iron Man who can team up and take them down. That’s what the Avengers were for. That’s what happened in the incident in 2012. But all the small time things? I’ve gotta be here for that. I need to deal with the purse-snatchers and muggers, because those are still things that matter to a lot of people. May be on a different scale, but it’s really important. I guess I just forgot about staying close to the ground…”

He fell silent after the long revelation. KAREN sometimes acted as a sounding board to simply let Peter come to conclusions on his own. She did that with his homework, so it wouldn’t be cheating to ask an AI for help revising the units on inorganic chemistry.

“That’s why I’m Spider-Man. He looks out for the small time stuff because that matters, just as much to people… a knife is practically nothing compared to an ionised sub-Ultron armor gauntlet. A gun is nothing compared to aliens and nukes. But the same knife and gun can destroy so many lives. Someone’s gotta take care of that.”

If KAREN had a body, Peter guessed she was smiling. He could hear the approval in her voice. “I think you choice is admirable, Peter. It’s not just Spider-Man who’s choosing to aim his webs at the knife and gun, it’s Peter Parker choosing to standing between a civilian and that knife and gun. Everyday you’re out there, there are people who feel safer sleeping at night. In my book, you more of a superhero than the Avengers.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed. His ears were hot and he squeezed his eyes, trying to quell the burn that had begun gradually.

“Th...thanks, KAREN.”

“Anytime, Peter.”

~~~~~

The sun was shining bright, even through the subpar weather. 

Tony flew upstate to work at the Compound. He knew that Pepper wouldn’t take it kindly if she caught him on Iron Man business on his month off. 

Vision was up in the labs looking through the recordings they’d found on the stakeout. Tony walked in, closing the hologram on his watch which displayed the work-in-progress tech for nanites. He wasn’t sure how well Rhodey would take it if he knew that there was a new suit in the works. Pepper would be even less pleased. 

“How’s it going, Hellboy?” Tony greeted him. Vision didn’t even react to the name. He kept glancing at the forty or so tabs open in front of him. The holographic projection took up an entire half of the lab. Tony worked to read through as many as he can. He caught sight of several articles written in Japanese. 

“Wanda has sent more information,” Vision mentioned, not moving from his initial stance. “They have figured out the motive behind the attacks.” 

Rhodey entered the lab just as Tony took a seat. 

“Any luck?” Rhodey asked. The mechanics on his bio-crutches gave a soft click as he sat on a stool beside Tony. 

“Yeah.” Tony said, stretching his back. “Got an MO. And FRIDAY’s put together the forensics from the lab reports and our observations. But a lot of the evidence would have degraded since the crime actually happened a while ago.” 

Tony flicked one of the screen over to Rhodey for analysis. He brought another one up to eye level, squinting at the various camera angles of the dog park. 

“And the kids?” 

“Just some drunk teens probably. They had a bottle with them. FRIDAY took a scan anyway.” 

A new tab opened on cue showcasing the dark ground level view of a dirty terrace with two kids lounging on the floor. Their heads were barely visible, but the audio from the short footage screened laughter and yelling. 

Infrared scans hadn’t found any kind of tech on them, not even phones. Tony had done a double check before stowing away the information. They hadn’t seemed vital or dangerous. 

“Fine,” Rhodey sighed, folding his arms. “Is it possible for –- ” 

“Wait a moment,” Vision interrupted them, head flicking to the side to take note of the two drunk teens. “Do you have an image of their faces?” 

“Facial recognition has failed,” FRIDAY responded. “Something’s blocking me from accessing data about the inhabitants in this video.” 

Tony stood up, frown plastered on his face. Rhodey sat in a similar move. 

“Is it a virus? Disable it, FRIDAY.” 

“Visual reconstruction will not work until I remove restrictive filters.” 

“FRIDAY, please display the infrared scans of the people in the footage,” Vision said. He sounded motivated. Tony and Rhodey watched as the mentioned tab came up front and Vision enlarged it to read the red outline of the teenagers. 

“One of the sites Wanda linked was from a radical group. It has details of a family that immigrated to the States. The Kirishimas.” 

Vision brought up screenshots of the site. “It’s been destabilized, but here are some of the photographs. Notice the woman?” 

Tony grumbled under his breath. The two ‘kids’ he and Rhodey had spotted on the terrace had not been unconnected. And he’d just glossed them over like it’d been nothing. The photo Vision was alluding to displayed two adults and kid, seemingly on a walk, with nothing out of place. 

“Racial profiling?” Rhodey asked with a scowl. 

“It’s worse. The family aren’t exactly mutants, definitely not humans…”

Tony steeled his body, feeling a shudder run down his spine. “Are they aliens? Please tell me they’re just here for a McDonalds outing.” 

“It’s not stated… but it’s definitely catching eyes. Her links –” Vision was cut off when the screen behind them began to beep. 

Rhodey looked up at the incoming call. A blue dot was beeping along with the name that flashed on the screen. He announced it and Vision… well, Vision couldn’t blush, but there was an odd look in his eyes that made Tony wonder how fast his code was evolving to not only understand and experience complex emotions. 

_**One Wish** _

“Who do you wish for, Vision?” Tony asked, one of his eyes twitching at the name. 

“Er…”

Rhodey swiped the green light below and the screen opened a video call, showing not just Wanda in real time, but Natasha, Sam, and…

Steve. 

Tony froze. There was ice crawling up his limbs, settling like lead in his lungs. He exhaled slowly, taking time to breathe. 

This was happening. What had it been? Five months? Was the Walmart fight, was Siberia only five months ago? 

Vision seemed to shift, holding himself uncomfortable and silent. 

Rhodey let out a small groan, ducking his head for a moment before looking back at the four people facing them. 

Even FRIDAY went quiet, clearly able to detect the very obvious tension in the room. 

The Rogue Avengers were standing in an underground room, well lit, small and looking unstable. The screen flickered as though the whole room seemed to tilt and straighten itself. As though it was on water and they were floating. Where they in a submarine? 

Wanda was stunned at the sight of Tony. She quickly averted her gaze, switching to Vision, before trying to glance at Rhodey. 

Nat went rigid, just like Tony. She clenched her jaw and then loosened it as though remembering to keep an unreadable expression. She never changed. They just knew how to read her better. 

Sam looked the most uncomfortable. He didn’t move away, but instead, looked at Rhodey, Vision, Tony, and then past them at the multiple screens open behind them. 

Steve was looking right at Tony. 

Tony couldn’t look away. Ex-Captain America had a stubble. It was so odd on his face. He’d never seen Steve like that with sunken bags underneath his eyes, more wrinkles, wayward hair, and a five o’clock shadow. That was Tony’s gimmick, not Ex-America’s Sweetheart’s. 

“Well,” Sam muttered before clearing his throat. “This is awkward.” 

~~~~~

Kaneki, Touka, and Ayato were sitting on the floor of the storeroom, by the kitchen. The bakery was being looked after by one of the kitchen attendants and Ichika was in the books section, under the eye of her babysitter. 

“Yomo san will call in a bit,” Kaneki reassured them, but Touka and Ayato still held stiff shoulders and tense expressions. 

When they’d come back to relay all that they had seen from their small mission, Kaneki was left with a bitter taste in his mouth. 

The Avengers were looking into the Ghoul attacks across the country. 

Well, of course they were. They always kept tabs of any non-human activities, especially violent ones. It was only surprising that the United Front hadn’t known about this until now, until Touka and Ayato had observed them with their own eyes. 

This left them in a precarious position. 

Were the Avengers searching for them? Kaneki and Touka had been living as the Kirishimas for a while now. Ayato was even deeper undercover as an unrelated traveler who had been a K-Pop singer in a previous life. 

Had someone finally found them? 

Kaneki was sure that if there was overwhelming evidence, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against Iron Man and War Machine. Not in public where, unlike the Avengers, the Ghouls needed to maintain the secret. 

But they hadn’t been in any of the spots that the other crimes had taken place. They had solid alibis. They had the truth. 

Not that it would help if it really was a Ghoul committing the atrocities. 

Kaneki could hear the excited whispers of his daughter as her babysitter, a tall and lanky teenager who spoke minimum Japanese, read out a children’s book in English. He kept his attention on Ichika’s heartbeat, feeling settled for a brief moment. 

The phone rang. 

Kaneki took the call even before the second ring started. Touka and Ayato leaned forwards to listen in. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello, Yomo san,” Kaneki murmured. “Is everything good?” 

“It’s going well, Ken. House looks good. We can move in soon. How is yours?” 

“We have a leak,” Ayato spoke. 

“Ayato kun, you sound worried.” 

Touka dipped her head to explain what had transpired last night to her uncle. Yomo san listened, muttering small responses in between but holding off until everything was said. 

Kaneki swallowed at the sudden silence that filled the static of the line. 

“I’ve been speaking to one of them,” Yomo san finally said. “His name is Nick Fury.” 

It took Kaneki a second to place the name. Fury meant anger or a type of wrath. But in this case, it was not an emotion…

“You…” Ayato spluttered. “You’ve been in cahoots with the Avengers! Nick Fury leads them!” 

“Fury has been helping weed out the mold,” Yomo san continued, still keeping the code. “The worst of it has been removed. The spiders have been eradicated too.” 

Spiders. 

Webs. 

The online presence of the rogue Ghouls had been the most distressing thing about them. Within a few weeks, they had managed to nearly turn the tide of the response of Japan's human population against Ghouls again. The document leak, the radicalized sentiments, the unchecked emergence of completely falsified information had been harrowing to say the least. 

Kaneki remembered being gob smacked at the sight of the comments pouring in, the vitriol and hatred stemming from the group, the abject fear that was struck into Ghouls and humans alike. 

There was nothing like hatred and spite, fueling actions on such an exponential scale. 

If Nick Fury really was helping United Front and TSC bring the websites down, the attack on the source could quell most of the problem. They managed to find peace in Japan once, they could do it again. 

“You trust this Nick Fury, Yomo san?” Touka asked, her voice taking on an urgent tone. 

“He stayed for two weeks, Touka. I could read no ill intention from him. He has secrets but not against us. It’s the best we can get. He’s been in contact with some friends, they brought down the network that was troubling us the most. We can handle things on the ground level here.” 

Yomo san sounded hopeful and it slowed Kaneki’s racing heart. It was rare when he was like that. It felt good. 

“Two weeks?” Touka suddenly frowned, no trace of optimism in her voice. “But… Yomo san, you sent us an email just a few days ago, saying we would have to stay here for a year!” 

“A year?" He replied, baffled. "I never said that, I never sent an email.” 

Yomo san’s words made everything stop. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

Somebody found the Kirishimas' ID and sent a mail, pretending to be Yomo Renji. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

The fake mail told them about CCG’s dissolve, about TSC’s establishment, about them having to stay in America for at least a year under disguise. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

Kaneki, Touka, and Ayato wouldn’t have known it was false if Hide hadn’t called them to relay new information. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

If the rogues could find their email address, they could trace it to _Antique Essence_. 

No time to breathe. 

Kaneki’s grip on the phone tightened. Touka and Ayato sat up straight, bodies tensed for a fight. They needed to leave. Now. 

~~~~~

Weather was dry but not as warm as he'd like. When Peter stepped into the store, he found the counter being manned by an unfamiliar face. Ms. Kirishima was nowhere in sight. 

So, he spent a few minutes waddling around the pastry counter and then the sci-fi section before hearing MJ’s voice from the children’s shelves. 

Peter’s thoughts took a jolt. MJ was here and she was cooped up in the kids’ section? 

He realized that she was speaking in a softer tone, one he’d never heard before. He stood there, staring at the Isaac Asimov collection, listening to MJ read a children’s story. 

“ _… and she also helped take care of the farm animals. Not just the small ones like chickens and ducks…_ ”

In response to her reading, there was a soft giggle, high and very unlike MJ. 

Peter inched towards the shelves and peeked his head around the corner. 

Ms. Kirishima’s daughter was perched on MJ’s lap as they curled up on the floor to read. MJ’s fingers traced the words as she enunciated them slowly. The five year old girl had a look of delight on her face as she tried to mouth the words. 

“ _Her name was Astrid, and she had quite a rebellious spirit!_ ” MJ read, grinning when the little girl said something in Japanese, pointing at the book. Peter couldn’t help but smile at the moment. 

Almost as if she had eyes on the sides of her head, MJ stopped speaking and quickly looked up to catch Peter’s suddenly red face. 

“Hey there, Peeping Peter,” she said, her voice still soft, but teasing anyway. 

The little girl lowered her head, and tucked herself behind MJ’s hair. She’d seen Peter before, but was still very obviously timid about any interaction with him. 

“I wasn’t… sorry! I wasn’t listening in! I mean, I was… but not like a creep or anything!” 

Maybe Peter _was_ a creep? MJ was the third person to call him out on peeping into other people’s lives, if you count KAREN as a person. 

“Hmm. Whatcha doing here?” 

“Um… you know… it’s a cool place. I hang out here… ‘cause I’m cool.” 

He winced at the statement and MJ rolled her eyes. The Kirishimas’ daughter cupped a hand around MJ’s ear and whispered something. 

“This is my friend, Peter,” MJ replied to whatever she’d said. 

“Friend,” The girl repeated. 

MJ tilted her head and said with a smirk, “Baka.” 

The little girl clapped her hands over her mouth, to muffle her laugh. Peter grinned at her enthusiasm. 

“I didn’t know you spoke Japanese.” 

“Bits,” MJ said. “Her parents wanted me to help her in English. So I babysit for a couple of hours every other day and read books with her. She loves books.” 

The girl nodded. “I love books!” 

Peter couldn’t quell his smile. “Hi. I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” 

She opened her mouth and tried to pronounce his name, but fumbled on the consonants. 

“You can call me Pete!” 

She blinked and said, “Pete san.” 

“Uh…”

MJ whispered something to her and the girl widened her eyes and began to stammer, “My name… is… uh Hina!” 

“Ahina?” 

“Hina!” 

“Oh, sorry! Hina. That’s a very nice name,” Peter added. 

Hina nodded and patted the large hard bound book on MJ’s lap. “Reading book.” 

“Wow. Can I listen?” 

Hina looked up at MJ who shrugged. “Okay.” 

Peter carefully dropped onto the floor to sit beside them, crossing his legs. MJ adjusted the book to show him the story and continued reading in her previous soft tone. 

“ _She was strong, brave, and never scared of being alone and she could do all sorts of things. Clean, cook, fix a bike, walk along rooftops, fight off bullies, make up fantastic stories._ ”

As MJ read about the protagonist, Astrid Lindgren, Peter listened to the calming ambiance of the store, built up of MJ’s soothing voice, Hina’s excited gasps, the smell of books across the shelves, the soft scent of cakes and cookies from the pastry counter, the low hum of the air conditioners, and the other delicious smells from the kitchen. It was a lovely little corner that comforted his regular worries and general adrenaline that was almost always beating right under his skin. 

This was nice. 

That is, it was until a sudden spark of fear brought goose bumps to the skin on the nape of his neck. Peter stiffened, eyes snapping up to the glass wall. 

A short tingle of electricity ran through his body. He could taste lemons in his mouth. Peter swallowed, throat going dry, leaning up to kneel behind the shelf. 

The door to the store opened. 

Something… somebody walked in. They felt… wrong. 

MJ stopped reading. She looked at Peter, eyebrows furrowed. Hina raised her head and inhaled deep. She spoke in Japanese and MJ looked at her, confused. 

Peter extended his arm, gesturing MJ to stay down. 

“What?” she whispered. 

The electricity running through his skin suddenly increased and Peter yelped, throwing his body to cover MJ and Hina. He moved right as a barrage of noise burst through the store. The shelves tethered and fell over, crashing into one another till the last one, that held books for kids, tipped and fell right on Peter’s back. 

Peter immediately braced a hand on the floor to stop the weight from crushing them. 

Hina shrieked and MJ tried to embrace her, moving away from the books that was raining down upon them. 

He used his other hand to shove the shelf away, but was interrupted. 

Somebody’s hand gripped a small part of the large wooden shelf and lifted the entire thing off of Peter, like it weighed nothing. 

The person seemed normal with brownish hair, pale face, pointy nose. He was tall, wearing a soft full sleeved sweater which looked like it cost a lot. 

What really caught Peter off guard were the shining red eyes and black corneas of the person who had set off his tingling sensation and apparently had super strength. 

Oh, also, there were some weird red tendrils growing out of his back. 

What the –

Peter ducked down just as the thin vines elongated from the attacker’s body and lashed out at him, smashing at the wall where his head had been. 

Plaster chipped away and Peter shouted as he felt two of the vines grab his foot. His entire body was torn away from MJ and Peter was suddenly airborne, flung into the tables of the pastry section. 

There was a lot of yelling and screaming. 

He wasn’t wearing his suit, it was in his bag. But he had his web-shooters. 

Peter pushed away the wooden tables and the broken glass just in time to see the attacker, rip MJ off of Hina. He threw her and MJ flew back, screaming. 

Peter leaped into the air and caught her before she could hit the glass counter full of pastries. 

The other patrons were scrambling, rushing for the exit or cowering away from the man with a dozen slimy tendrils that looked way more real and terrifying than the Xenamorphs from Alien. MJ was clutching at Peter’s shirt, panting wildly. 

A door behind them burst open and the Kirishimas ran forwards. They froze to a halt when they saw the attacker pick up a screaming Hina with the tendrils. 

One man, that Peter had never seen before, rushed from Ms. Kirishima’s side, heading straight for the attacker. 

Peter yelled and he wasn’t the only one. 

The attacker twisted to his side, letting many of the tendrils grow from his back and swiftly slam against the man. Two of them wrapped around his neck and squeezed. 

Ms. Kirishima was screaming. Hina was sobbing. The man was flailing, face turning blue. Peter was panicking.

Mr. Kirishima picked up several pieces of glass from debris of the broken tables and hurled them at the attacker’s legs. 

The shards flew like bullets, too fast, deadlier than possible. The latter deflected them with his vines and gave the Kirishimas a malicious grin. He lifted the man he was throttling and threw him into the glass wall. The man crashed right into it, falling and rolling into the street. 

The attacker ran in the same direction, dragging Hina behind him. The two disappeared into the city. 

Peter and MJ cringed as everyone else ran out of the store. Within seconds, they were the only ones left. 

“What the hell?!” MJ gasped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book MJ reads is called 'Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls'. I wholly recommend it for everyone.
> 
> The last chapter will be way longer. I just didn't want to add more than the present concluding arcs for this one.


	5. Leave Us Out of The War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, and I'm proud of myself of finishing this up! Enjoy!

“Well, this is awkward,” Sam said. 

Rhodey had to agree. He would have laughed at all the stunned faces but was too busy trying to overcome the surprise himself.

He’d never seen Natasha quite so taken aback. Her eyes had widened for a brief second before the mask settled over her face. Wanda looked quite nervous, with Vision unable to look away from her. Steve and Tony had their own staring contest. Rhodey was quite sure that in another life, they would have had an incredibly messy relationship if either of them had taken the dive.

And if they hadn’t kept secrets from each other.

“Sure is,“ Rhodey said in reply. He folded his arms and glanced over at Tony. “How bad is it?”

Steve looked like he was wrestling with himself to get to the topic.

“It’s urgent. Fury’s a safeguard for a family. Nat?”

Natasha’s arm jerked from its stiff hold as she swiped her fingers over her tablet. The display that showcased the Rogues was now a split screen, showcasing a new image of three individuals. A man, a woman, and a child.

It took Rhodey a second to place the woman’s face and it took Tony even less time to bring up the InfraRed scan of the drunk kids from their stakeout.

It was a close match. The kids hadn’t been as young as Rhodey and Tony had assumed. The woman was definitely in her twenties. The man in the image Nat was showing them was not the same person as the one they had seen on the roof the previous night.

”Who are they?” Vision asked, trying to move past the tense atmosphere.

“Fury’s been minimal about them. But they’re part of a large mutant community in Asia. They’re the leaders in a peaceful movement that’s working towards integration of humans and mutants in their country. A rogue group is working to destabilize the family’s standing. The Kirishimas fled to the States to escape asylum. The plan is for them to wait there for a couple more months before going back home,” Nat’s report was quick and concise, unwilling to delve into anything personal.

“Awesome,” Tony said through his teeth. He picked up his phone and opened a tab to start tracing the family’s movement. 

“Fury is looking out for them, you say?” Rhodey confirmed.

Wanda nodded and then quickly stopped moving. Steve picked up the slack. “Yes. The crime scenes were made by one of the rogues who are threatening to out the mutants. They’re not really like the ones we’re already aware of. The family just needs to stay in Manhattan for two months without trouble before they can go back. But the rogue will try to disrupt them --” 

“I know what rogue means,” Tony snapped, eyes flashing to glare at Steve.

“Tony --”

“Nah uh! We’re not doing this now. It was a displeasure seeing you, have a terrible day.”

“I’m sorry,” Wanda whispered.

Rhodey closed his eyes and groaned silently. Sam looked ready to bolt and Nat looked over to Rhodey, silently pleading him to take over.

“Hmm?” Tony replied, still furious. “I didn’t catch that, Wanda.”

Steve looked away. Wanda’s face crumpled for a mere moment before inhaling and muttering, “I’m sorry things went all wrong. I… Rhodey, how are you?”

It was probably for the best that she diverted. If they had to really talk all their problems out, it shouldn’t be done over a video call.

Rhodey cleared his throat, “Better. Thank you. Therapy’s working out and bionic crutches are tip top.”

Everyone seemed to realise at once that it wasn’t time to work things out. It wasn’t time to try to fix it, because they had no time to unpack the clustermess of problems far bigger than a bunch of people with responsibilities and a prayer to stay together. Rhodey missed them more than he expected. There was quiet ache in his chest that had grown constant over the months that slowly passed by.

But that was the problem, right? They had all been Avengers first, friends second. Forget even family, that was no where on the list, no matter how much he’d wished it.

“We’ll keep an eye out on the Kirishimas,” Vision said, nodding towards them.

Steve sighed, eyebrows furrowing as Tony reached ahead and ended the video call.

The glow from the tab was gone and Tony immediately turned around to open a new screen to find the Kirishimas. Rhodey and Vision shared a look behind his back.

“Oh, look. They have a little café near Midtown. That’s swell. We should go there, the menu looks great.”

“Tony,” Rhodey said, exhaling.

“Alright fine, I’ll pay. I know for a fact you’ll like the macrons, look at them!”

“We need to open the conversation, Tones,” Rhodey continued, voice soft as Tony’s body froze.

“Not now.”

“The more we wait --”

“Rhodes. Not. Now.”

Tony didn’t look up from the screen. Vision bowed his head and walked away, phasing right through the wall.

Rhodey could have circumvented that. He could have gone over Tony’s wish to start renegotiations with Ross and the UN to look at the best ways to invite the rest of the Avengers back home.

But decisions like that was what had separated them in the first place. Assumptions were dangerous when there was so much at stake. It wasn’t worth jeopardizing the remaining attachments to fix a broken thing.

They just needed more time.

~~~~~

Kaneki had no time to waste. Ayato was thrown through the glass wall, right onto the road. Touka ran out of the store and into the streets to grab his prone body and yank him onto the sidewalk.

Ayato’s face had gone blue. There were ugly bruises around his neck and he was flailing, gasping for air.

People were screaming and running away from the attacker. The ghoul had taken Ichika. Touka turned to look at Kaneki, wrath blistering around her visage.

“Get her back,” she hissed, as though Kaneki would ever even think of hesitating. 

He didn’t give her an acknowledgement, instead spinning on the spot and running towards the echo of Ichika’s frightened sobs.

Panic bubbled, pushing his body to dash across the roads. The attacker was Kanzo von Rosewald, someone who Kaneki had never met before today but knew from the photographs Tsukiyama used to show. A distant cousin of the Rosewald family, Kanzo resembled Tsukiyama in height, built, and even hair. The soft violet strands made Kaneki feel sick at the thought of facing against somebody who Shuu would know.

Kanzo had thin and long vines tinted in red. He was a rinkaku type. The tendrils sprouted in multitudes from just behind his torso. He made a turn, escaping from the shocked pedestrians and jumping up to the balconies of a tall utility building. He was doing everything he could to get everyone’s attention. The vines smashed against the windows making the buildings inhabitants shriek and hide.

Throwing the secret away, Kaneki grunted before bracing his feet on the dirty ground and vaulting twenty feet up to catch the iron railing of one of the balconies. He could hear people gasping behind him, could hear the flashes of cameras.

Ichika was tiny in the man’s grip. She thrashed about trying to kick the vines that were wrapped around her torso. Kanzo kept climbing up, finally using his tendrils to grasp onto the cell phone tower on top of the building and hover above the terrace.

Kaneki reached the top floor, and clenched his fists, feet planted wide, ready for a fight. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him, his kagune waiting to burst out at his command.

Kanzo leaned away from the tower, looking down at Kaneki with a sadistic smile.

“Oh, the great One-Eyed King!” he bellowed. “How kind of you to seek me out, I hope you’re not too busy!”

Kaneki was in no mood to play. “Kanzo von Rosewald, don’t hurt her!”

Kanzo looked delighted. “You know me! Did Shuu tell you about me? You can let him know I’ve had a lot to do over the years, which was why I never really had the time to meet him.”

“Daddy, I wanna get down!” Ichika screamed.

“Oh, don’t worry, Princess,” Kanzo grinned at her. “I’ll drop you soon enough. Question is, will Daddy catch you?”

Kaneki’s heart leapt up to his throat. Kanzo raised the vines, taking Ichika higher and higher, till she was near the top of the tower, three hundred feet off the ground. She screamed, trying to move closer towards the iron rungs of the cell phone tower. 

“Look at that, Great King. Everyone can see us!”

He was so smug that Kaneki was ready to tear him apart. His hands shook from the strain of staying on the terrace and not simply using his kagune to tear the ghouls limbs away and safely take Ichika back.

“Kanzo san, please. Dont… why are you doing this?”

“There was never a real reason to hide away,” Kanzo snapped, anger growing behind his handsome face. “Look at them. They’re all going to know about us now. You could have done this five years ago. Remember that? Remember when you nearly destroyed Tokyo?”

The buried memories resurfaced with startling clarity. Kaneki could hear the shrieks of humans and ghouls alike as his kagune grew and grew, his body undulating and twisting to form the dragon, nearly laying waste to the city of Tokyo.

“You could have taken over the world. But you chose to hide. You chose to stay quiet. Living with humans, like equals. What will you choose now? You can destroy New York without a second thought. I’m not going to expose ghouls to the world, Kaneki Ken. You are!”

“Please don’t!” Kaneki struggled to stay vigilant. “You don’t know what this will do. People will suffer, riots and hysteria --”

“Humans will suffer,” Kanzo pointed out. “No, we will flourish. And if you can’t take up the mantle of King, then maybe we don’t need one. Everyone will know the truth. Food will be fresh and plentiful. And delicious.”

Kanzo leaned over, letting Ichika turn in his vines. She was now dangling away from the terrace, the ground hundreds of feet below her. She began struggling again, digging her fingers into the tendrils.

“You can catch her and kill me in the same second,” Kanzo whispered, maniacal smile dropping. He looked scarily like Tsukiyama now. “You are the strongest of us all. You could have taken over the whole world, and remade it. You could have fixed the world. Instead, it had to come to --”

It happened in an instant. Something white and elastic flew into Kanzo’s face, covering his eyes and nose. His head snapped back from the force and he roared as more of the elastic things hit him in different places, one on his feet, one around his torso, one over his hand...

And one over the ends of the vines that were holding Ichika.

The white elastic material had moved at such a speed that his body jerked back and Ichika slipped from the tendrils.

Kaneki was already moving. His kagune burst from his back, right as a red clad figure leaped into view and caught her.

Wait… that wasn’t Touka...

Kaneki stopped and stared at the masked man that had swung into the scene, incapicitated Kanzo, and caught Ichika, all within two seconds.

He knew that scent. It was the mutant boy, the one Touka thought was adorable.

Spider-Man was very clearly a boy, then. He dropped to the terrace, tucking Ichika close to keep her safe. Ichika held on to him in a tight grip.

“Whoa!” Peter said, his voice slightly adulterated through the red mask. Kaneki stared at him, breaking out of the trance and rushing for Ichika.

Peter stepped back, startled and Kaneki flinched when he realised his kagune were still out. He quickly retreated them, feeling the blood on tattered remains of his shirt.

“You’re like him?” Peter whispered, still holding Ichika, protective over her. Kaneki could smell no evil intention from him, so he said, “Take her back to her mother.”

“Daddy?” Ichika called, turning a tear-stained face to him. Kaneki’s heart ached for her.

“Daddy will come back, dear. I love you.”

Kaneki could trust Peter. He’d heard about Spider-Man briefly, but more than that, he recalled Touka talking about him.

Right now, he needed to take care of Kanzo.

The ghoul ripped the webs that had stuck him to the tower. Kaneki leaped up, caught a surprised Kanzo by the neck and brought them both down. He slammed Kanzo’s head onto the ground.

Kanzo groaned, trying to fight back, but Kaneki caught his arm, and yanked, dislocating one of his shoulders. Then he brought an elbow down and bashed it onto Kanzo’s head, knocking him out.

There was probably no point. If the humans had recorded him, they would have captured his kagune, or at least a red shape emerging from his back, just as how they had seen on Kanzo. The secret is lost.

~~~~~

Touka had been able to get Ayato inside the store before turning to set out for Ichika and Kaneki. But she barely stepped foot outside the shop when multiple black SUVs converged on her.

No, no, no...

Agents clad in tactical gear poured out of the vehicles. Many of them didn’t actually approach her, rather spread out to drive the civilians away. One of the suits opened the door of the last car and two people stepped out.

Touka didn’t recognize either of them. Her pulse was through the roof and she heard Ayato swearing quietly in the store, trying to stand up on his broken leg.

The man that walked towards her wore an eye patch. His long trench coat swayed in the cold breeze. The woman came up to flank his right, in similar black gear.

“At ease, Ms. Kirishima,” the man said, his Japanese slightly slow, but well placed. “My friends and I are here at Yomo Renji’s bequest.”

Touka’s heart stuttered. What? Was this the American who was helping Uncle Yomo clean house?

“Friends?” she asked, not wanting to give anything away, in case they were bluffing. She could sniff out any ulterior motives. No quinques, no heavy artillery.

“Repair on the house will take two months,” The man said and Touka swallowed. She didn’t relax, but could feel the soft bit of relief. Nothing would calm her except for Ichika safe and sound in her arms.

“Repair? The secret is out, sir.”

“Not necessarily. We’ve implemented a blocker, the moment report about the rogue came into play. All electric devices in the surrounding area have been compromised from the time the rogue entered your store. We can manipulate testimonies easy enough.”

That sounded too good to be true. Touka reserved to not take everything at face value and decided to wait until she investigated the news herself.

Ichika’s heartbeat grew stronger. Touka’s shoulders nearly dropped when she heard her daughter’s giggles growing closer. She looked up and saw a red and blue figure flying, no - swinging through the New York skyline. Ichika was hugging the man’s torso, arms and legs wrapped around him. She looked delighted by her little adventure.

It was Spider-Man. She’d read about this vigilante. Except… he smelt familiar.

Oh… Peter.

Peter swung down to perch himself on the shoe shop roof, opposite _Antique Essence_. The streets were now empty and blocked off. By the agents. The man and the woman turned around and noticed Spider-Man, chilling on the roof with Touka’s daughter.

“Mama!” Ichika crowed, waving at her happily. Touka heaved a sigh of relief as she could smell none of Ichika’s blood outside. She seemed fine.

Peter seemed to hesitate, trying to gauge the situation to see if it was safe enough to come down.

The eye-patched man tilted his chin up and said in English, “Hello, Spider-Man. If you don’t mind, will you deposit the child back to the lady here? We mean no harm.”

Touka watched as Peter’s mask turned to face her, eyes narrowing as he said, “The lady can speak for herself, Mr. Nick Fury! When did SHIELD get back together?”

” Spider-Man! Please give her back to me.” Touka called. She stumbled upon his name, having never said that out loud before. It was such an odd name. Why would anyone want to be associated with spiders? She never liked them.

Peter nodded and leaped from the roof. Ichika squealed as he landed neatly beside Touka and perked up in an instant. Ichika leaned out of his hands and Touka took her, nearly grabbing her arms. Her heart settled and Ichika cuddled against Touka, resting her cheek upon her shoulder.

Touka kissed Ichika’s temple and whispered, “Where’s Daddy?”

Ichika mumbled, “He’s dancing with mean Uncle Shuu.”

Touka knew the attacker had looked a lot like Shuu Tsukiyama. She held Ichika closer and looked at Peter. “Thank you, Spider-Man.”

Peter saluted. “No thanks necessary, ma’am! Just doing my job!”

“Mama, that’s not Spy-Ma, he’s Pete san!” Ichika chirped, pointing at Peter.

It was almost comical how the lenses on his mask widened, to the point where half his face was overtaken by white. He had clearly understood what 'Pete san' meant. Touka hid a smile. For his sake, she hoped the other agents didn’t speak Japanese.

“Wha-at!” Peter coughed. “No, no Peteson here. No anything here. You can call me Jake if you want, or Tom, or Spidey! Whoops, I gotta go! You guys take care now. If you’re in trouble I’ll be back!”

He tried to say ‘I’ll be back’ in an intimidating tone, but none of the agents were fazed.

The woman who stood by the eye-patched man, smirked. “See you around, Pete san.”

Peter pointed at her. “That’s a funny way of pronouncing Spidey, ma’am.”

“I’m a hilarious one,” she deadpanned.

Peter made an elaborate head rolling gesture that had Ichika giggling. He then leaped from the ground, stringing a web at one of the tall buildings, swinging away into the concrete jungle.

Touka turned back to the eye-patched man. His facial expression hadn’t changed since he had stepped out of the car.

“We have a lot to talk about Ms. Kirishima. I can send my agents away. I assure you, you will come to no harm.”

From within the quiet store, Ayato spoke softly, “I called Yomo. He’s vouching for both of them.”

Touka sighed and nodded. “Welcome to _Antique Essence_ , Nick Fury, Maria Hill. Please excuse the mess.

~~~~~

**ROGUE TRAPEZE ACT CAUSE DAMAGE TO CAFÉ**

**In an unprecedented act of daredevilry, two men were seen falling through the glass wall of a small café in Lower East Manhattan. Witnesses state that they had seen the men attempting to swing around the city like Spider-Man. They had attached high grade bungee cables to their sides to maneuver around the buildings in an imitation of the small town vigilante. One of the men suffered injuries to the neck and a young bystander was also knocked over as he fell. The authorities were called in when people noticed the odd red cables hanging over the roads and assumed them to be live wires. The casualties were treated in General Hospital, downtown...**

Peter scrolled down the article, giggling to himself when he read the comments about ‘imitating Spider-Man’.

Ah, jeez. That day had been a trip. It was a miracle how the truth hadn’t gotten out.

His phone lit up and Mr. Stark’s code name appeared on screen. Peter furtively scanned the empty gym before taking the call.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, kid. Why’re you whispering? Is something wrong? You’re supposed to be in school. You said you have decathlon practice after the last hour --”

“Mr. Stark, I’m fine!” Peter huffed. “I’m at school. I just had a free hour, so I’m the only one here. I’m just being careful. I don’t want anyone to listen in. Imagine what would happen if they knew I was talking to you!”

“What’s wrong with talking to me?” Mr. Stark asked, sounding offended. Peter guessed he was joking.

“Where do I begin?”

“Square up, kid.”

Peter laughed. “You started it.”

“Yeah yeah.” It sounded like he was smiling. “I just wanted to check on you. Fury didn’t follow up on your case, did he?”

“He didn’t. I’m okay, Mr. Stark. And I think the Kirishimas are good too. They’re getting their wall repaired now. Did you talk to them? That was an Avenger level attack, right? Did you handle it was it only Mr. Fury and that other lady?”

“Okay, first things, first. Don’t call him, Mr. Fury. Everyone in the known universe calls him ‘Nicky’,” he sounded serious while saying that and Peter snorted. “And second, how exactly do you know the Kirishimas? They’re in the Protection Program?”

”They have this super amazing shop, Mr. Stark! It’s a bakery and a bookstore combined!”

“They obviously don’t know what it means to have a low profile.”

“That’s sort of hypocritical of you, Mr. Stark,” Peter pointed.

“Eh. You remember what I said about not patrolling in Manhattan?”

There it was. Peter was waiting for this talk since leaving Michelle in the broken store and running out to put on his suit and get to little Hina Kirishima.

“I wasn’t patrolling there! I was in the store with MJ and Hina. We were just reading books when the tentacle guy came in! It was so gross, Mr. Stark! He had these red, bloody vines coming out of his back -- ”

“Clearly, you don’t have the concept of ‘low profile’ either, Parker.”

Peter groaned. “I’m trying to say, I wasn’t in Manhattan to patrol. I just happened to be there when the villain of the week busted in.”

Mr. Stark stayed quiet, like he was taking the time to think about it. Peter wasn’t lying. He hadn’t broken the rules. He should be fine. Why was he so nervous about this?

“Okay.”

Peter sat up on the bleachers, giddy. “Really?”

Mr. Stark sounded wry. “You were telling the truth, weren’t you?”

”Yes!”

“Then we’re golden. You did a great job kid. Saved the baby, kissed the girl, no fatal injuries. That’s an A plus in my register. Enjoy your day, kid.”

Peter went red. “Um… there was no kissing.”

”Ending call now.”

Mr. Stark ended the call and Peter sighed in relief. That… that was a good talk. He liked being casual with Mr. Stark, even though they did talk about work. 

Honestly, the better days were the ones when they got to be Tony Stark and Peter Parker, and not Iron Man and Spider-Man, even though those were fun.

The aca-dec session went great. Now that Peter had managed to make a schedule and stick to it, he’d been able to handle patrolling and school work better. It made him realise just how much he’d missed simply hanging out with Ned or fooling around with his classmates when it felt like they had all the time in the world.

MJ ended the practice with a solid not-bad-could-be-better-gotta-be-better-I-will-end-you-if-you-fail-me expression.

Ned packed up his flash cards and nudged Peter as the other got up to leave.

“So they revamped the lego catalogue for the summer. Guess what they’re including?”

Peter sat up, wide-eyed. “Jar-Jar Binks?”

“Yeah! I don’t know if it’s gonna be a hit or a miss.” Ned shrugged. Then he groaned as Peter sniggered before saying, “Either way, they never miss.”

“Dorks,” MJ mumbled, zipping up her bag.

Ned’s face lit up. “You should join us, you know, MJ? Peter and I have lego marathon sessions once a month. It’s super fun.”

“Not really my thing.”

“Having fun isn’t your thing?” Peter teased her. She shot him a look and her lips turned up. They were the last to walk out of the gym.

“I’ll have to clear my timetable for you,” she said, twisting the ties of her bag.

Peter and Ned grinned. That sounded like a yes.

“Cool!” Ned cheered. “Where are you off to now?”

MJ nodded towards the road. “Heading to _Antique Essence_.”

Peter tried not to jump. “Er… they’re renovating. Like… that’s what I heard on the news. When the glass broke… I think they’re closed now.”

“Store isn’t open for business, but the Kirishimas are busy with rearranging stuff. So I’m babysitting Hina again till dinner time.” MJ stopped by the gate, moving towards the skywalk.

Ned and Peter spoke together.

“Can we come along?”

“Mind if we join?”

They chuckled half-hearted as MJ scrutinized them for a long five seconds.

“Alright. Since they know you, I guess they’ll let you in. Besides…” MJ’s eyes sparkled. “Hina absolutely loves Pete san.”

Peter sighed. Yeah… he figured the Kirishimas knew he was Spider-Man. But Mr. Stark had confirmed that they were mutants in hiding, so… it was a two-way street. Peter looked out for them, they’d keep his secret. Hina couldn’t help it if she said it out loud...

But really, he’d look out for them either way, and he knew they would keep his secret even if he didn’t know about them.

Ned squinted. “Pete san?”

“It’s an honorific. Except Peter doesn’t seem honored when she calls him that.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that! Hina’s the best! Anyway, do you know what they’re saying on the news?”

“You mean the bungee jumpers crashing into the place?” Ned asked, as though he hadn’t heard the entire truth of the events from Peter.

“You believe that?” MJ asked, suspiciously. They descended the stairs and blended into the evening crowd.

Peter observed MJ’s face. She was the perfect person to ask this because if he wanted to know what suspicions were floating around online about any superhero related stuff, odds were that MJ was closer to the truth than most people. Her guesses about altered news were generally backed by solid reasoning.

“The bungee jumping story is too far-fetched. It doesn’t fit right with what some others are saying.”

Ned peeked up at her, a picture of innocence. “How d’you mean?”

MJ huffed, looking like she was ready for a fight with the debate team. “Some news on Twitter is that a lot of the phones were jammed mysteriously while the whole thing was happening. Not to mention, I was there. I saw that thing on the guy’s back…”

She hesitated. “I didn’t look like cords. Remember Peter?”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, it looked more like ropes soaked in kerosene.”

Ned blinked. “Huh?”

MJ glared at him. “Ropes? Come on, Parker, it wasn’t ropes!”

“Look, whatever it was, it was freaky looking. But it reminded me of safety cables that stunt-people would use during an action movie.”

Peter was definitely pushing it because they were both there when the rogue mutant had trashed the store and grabbed Ichika. MJ scowled.

“It wasn’t wrapped around his waist like a safety harness, Peter! It was…” she lowered her voice. “Those things were sprouting from his back. Like, from inside him. And they were alive. They moved like a CGI monster.”

“It looked weird to me though. All floppy,” Peter muttered. “It was red, like what the article said.”

“So, like a bungee cord?” Ned confirmed.

“No,” MJ bit the word out. “Like blood. It was terrifying.”

Ned shuddered. “Glad I wasn’t there… I mean! I’m glad you two are alright! That’s the important part.”

MJ sighed. “You guys are acting weird again.”

Peter leaned back. “Weird?”

Ned wondered. “Again?”

”Yeah… but all this stuff they’re saying on the net… the truth is we know what’s going on. Everyone knows, but nobody’s gonna say it. It’s so obvious.”

MJ sighed, suddenly looking a little deflated. She slouched and dragged her shoes across the sidewalk. Peter thought she looked tired.

“Have you heard of the Black Dahlia?” She asked suddenly.

“Like the flower?” Ned asked.

She made a face. “No, like the murder.”

“Pretty sure it’s a flower, MJ.”

MJ poked Peter’s bicep. “Funny. I’m talking about the Black Dahlia crime. It’s pretty famous.”

Ned made an ‘ahh’ face. “Is it one of the cold cases?”

”Yup. It was a horrific one. This lady was found murdered in a field and the case was never solved. It’s one of the most frustrating case reports ever because everyone practically knew who the murderer was. There were so many red flags over the main suspect, George Hodel Jr., especially since his alibis were weak at best. Not to mention, he was a highly paid doctor, super rich, good-looking, very professional and clean-cut on the books. That’s the number one indicator that a person so well off and well educated had means to do the crime.”

MJ folded her arms and glowered at the doors. “His own kids suspected that he had more to do with the case than he led on. His son was a detective and held him as a primary suspect. But there were other people coming up to confess to crime messing up all the findings and evidence. Apparently, some doctor even lost pieces of evidence. They couldn’t even figure if that was an accident on intentional.”

Peter swallowed. Covering up events was a thing that happened regularly, since bygone times. The truth could be staring at somebody’s face but if there were a hundred voices yelling that it was wrong, then what should be believed?

MJ dropped her scowl and shrugged. “That’s the most visible proof that we as a species can be very gullible and susceptible to deception.”

Ned tilted his head. “May be you’re looking at it in a very pessimistic tone. People are social creatures. We rely on each other to function and live. If one of us lies, twists facts, and hurts us, is it our fault or theirs?”

MJ pushed out her bottom lip and surveyed Ned’s query. “Nice. But I am a generally pessimistic person. That’s how most of the world works.”

Ned beamed. “We gotta try everyday. What’s obvious right now probably wasn’t clear then. The detectives would have investigated the case thoroughly. And like you said, if there were false confessions, it would have really thrown a wrench into the engine.”

She sighed. “Fine. But you need to read about the case to really get the point. It tells a lot about perception and deception, about behaviors and how repercussions are avoided when you have a certain social standing in the community. It’s nothing like the problem solving in crimes shown on TV. Hodel is who I’m pinning the murder on.”

Peter listened as MJ went on to shape why the case was in the top five of her favorite ‘grisly-murders-to-read’ list. The more she spoke, the more open she was. There were new ticks in her face as she expressed about something she genuinely loved. It was amazing to see this side of MJ.

By the time they reached their destination, Peter felt a little more hopeful. Things weren’t perfect, not with rumors about the Kirishimas flying around, the Avengers no longer a team, the Accords undergoing rework, reality being splintered to fit a preferred narrative... 

But, Peter wanted to be hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one doesn't tie up the loose ends because it fits neatly into canon timeline (however inconsistent the dates are). But it ends sort of on a bittersweet note..? The story goes on, I'm just finishing the fic here. As Nat would say to the enemy while flushing for info, "Happy endings are for kids..."  
> We are all kids at heart.


End file.
